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robertreich · 4 months

Video

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The Silent Revolution in American Economics

I don't think you're expecting what I'm about to say, because I have never seen anything like this in fifty years in politics.

For decades I've been sounding an alarm about how our economy has become increasingly rigged for the rich. I've watched it get worse under both Republicans and Democrats, but what President Biden has done in his first term gives me hope I haven't felt in years. It’s a complete sea change.

Here are three key areas where Biden is fundamentally reshaping our economy to make it better for working people.

#1 Trade and industrial policy

Biden is breaking with decades of reliance on free-trade deals and free-market philosophies. He’s instead focusing on domestic policies designed to revive American manufacturing and fortify our own supply chains.

Take three of his signature pieces of legislation so far — the Inflation Reduction Act, the CHIPS Act, and his infrastructure package. This flood of government investment has brought about a new wave in American manufacturing.

Unlike Trump, who just levied tariffs on Chinese imports and used it as a campaign slogan, Biden is actually investing in America’s manufacturing capacity so we don’t have to rely on China in the first place.

He’s turning the tide against deals made by previous administrations, both Democratic and Republican, that helped Wall Street but ended up costing American jobs and lowering American wages.

#2 Monopoly power

Biden is the first president in living memory to take on big monopolies.

Giant firms have come to dominate almost every industry. Four beef packers now control over 80 percent of the market, domestic air travel is dominated by four airlines, and most Americans have no real choice of internet providers.

In a monopolized economy, corporate profits rise, consumers pay higher prices, and workers’ wages shrink.

But under the Biden, the Federal Trade Commission and the Antitrust Division of the Justice Department have become the most aggressive monopoly fighters in more than a half century. They’re going after Amazon and Google, Ticketmaster and Live Nation, JetBlue and Spirit, and a wide range of other giant corporations.

#3 Labor

Biden is also the most pro-union president I’ve ever seen.

A big reason for the surge in workers organizing and striking for higher wages is the pro-labor course Biden is charting.

The Reagan years blew in a typhoon of union busting across America. Corporations routinely sunk unions and fired workers who attempted to form them. They offshored production or moved to so-called “right-to-work” states that enacted laws making it hard to form unions.

Even though Democratic presidents promised labor law reforms that would strengthen unions, they didn’t follow through. But under Joe Biden, organized labor has received a vital lifeboat. Unionizing has been protected and encouraged. Biden is even the first sitting president to walk a picket line.

Biden’s National Labor Relations Board is stemming the tide of unfair labor practices, requiring companies to bargain with their employees, speeding the period between union petitions and elections, and making it harder to fire workers for organizing.

Americans have every reason to be outraged at how decades of policies that prioritized corporations over people have thrown our economy off-keel.

But these three waves of change — a worker-centered trade and industrial policy, strong anti-monopoly enforcement, and moves to strengthen labor unions — are navigating towards a more equitable economy.

It’s a sea change that’s long overdue.

#youtube #Joe Biden #politics #economics #video #videos

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ickadori · 5 months

Note

oml hi i’m absolutely DYING over your fics with uraume and sukuna. they way you write the dynamics between all three of them is IDNSKSOAJI!!!

i wonder what happens when yorozu is thrown into the mix since she is canonically “in love” (?) with sukuna. how would uraume take to them maybe messing with y/n now that they’ve somewhat grown attached to them ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

cws for fem reader and mild violence.

Uraume had made their feelings towards Yorozu quite clear from the moment they had first met her. She grossly misconstrued her purpose in the world - she was simply an extra body, a bit of riffraff to add to the background noise buzzing in Sukuna’s ears.

She declared herself to be in love with him, and the bold claim had left a nasty taste in their mouth. Her announcing her love for him so brazenly was similar to a beggar asking for the queen’s hand in marriage. Preposterous, the damned wench.

“Oh, how I pity the foolish drivel that fawn after my love,” Yoruzu sighs, her gaze focused on where you frolic in the garden, a concentrated look on your face as you carefully snip the stems of flowers and gently lay them in the basket by your feet.

“Self-pity is for the weak.” Uraume doesn’t bother sparing the woman with a glance. “And the weak have no business in Lord Sukuna’s palace. Leave.”

“Tuh. You’d banish me before banishing the sacrifice from that village? Don’t tell me you’ve grown a soft spot for that thing - it’s bad enough that Sukuna has—” Your head raises at the strong gust of wind that nearly topples you over, and your eyes turn to where Yorozu is pressing a hand to the deep gash on her neck, blood staining Uraume’s pale skin.

“Do not address him so casually, trash.” They turn their gaze to the blood dirtying their hand, face contorting into a scowl as they pull free a handkerchief from their person and cleanse themself. “If it happens again I’ll have your head.” They toss the now bloody handkerchief in their direction, not paying any attention to the furious look on her face. “And you will not refer to her as anything but her name, or else you’ll have the Lord himself to deal with.”

Had Sukuna been on the property, Yorozu would have finally been dealt with once he heard how she referred to you as a ‘thing’ - oh, how they wish he hadn’t left so soon.

You stop your flower picking to raise to your feet, and Uraume feels a tick of annoyance when you give Yorozu a concerned look. Fool. The woman had made her disdain for you, and obsession with your lover, more than clear, and yet you still housed positive feelings for her.

It doesn’t take you long to make your way over, basket clutched in your hands as you give a wary look to the still bleeding gash on her neck. Yorozu makes a face that’s identical to the one that Uraume used to throw your way, and their cursed energy spikes in anger, at her and at themselves.

“I can patch that up for you, Yorozu. There’s a balm I have that works really well to dull the pain. Ryomen brought it for me when I cut my hand one evening.” Yorozu gives Uraume a pointed look, likely waiting for the slash across your neck, and they make a low noise of amusement.

“That isn’t necessary.” Yorozu removes her hand to reveal her healed skin. “Unlike some weaker, lesser people, I can heal myself without the aid of balms.”

“Oh, I’m glad. It seems you get hurt an awful lot, so it’s good that you can heal yourself at will…otherwise I’m sure you would have died a long time ago due to never leaving a fight unscathed.” You beam. “I’m so grateful that Uraume and Ryomen don’t have that problem - they’re very strong and capable, unlike some weaker, lesser people.”

Yorozu fumes, skin reddening and fists clenching, and Uraume can’t help the splutter of laughter that leaves their mouth.

“Now, Uraume and I have to prepare for Ryomen’s return, so if you could show yourself the way out that’d be lovely.” Your hand that isn’t holding the basket moves to grab ahold of the sleeve of Uraume’s top, and they allow you to pull them through the garden and back indoors. You let go of them and spin on your heel when you’re finally inside, eyebrows pulling together in frustration as you lean to the side to look out through the open doors. “That woman makes me sick.”

“So have Lord Sukuna kill her.” You cringe and shake your head, and Uraume tuts with a shake of their head.

“I’d rather not start giving out execution orders, Uraume.” You turn your attention back towards your basket. “She’ll eventually lose in battle, braggarts like her always do, and then we’ll be free to laugh and dance in front of her grave.”

“You’re more like the master than you’d like to admit.” You let out an airy laugh, fingers carefully cradling a red primrose before you bring it up and carefully tuck it into the fold of their kimono.

“Oh? Comparing me to Ryomen? That’s quite the compliment coming from you,” your eyes flit up to connect with theirs. “I guess that means you must like me quite a bit.”

“You’re beginning to sound like Yorozu - utterly delusional.” They briskly walk around you, eyes rolling at your laughter that floods the halls, and the corner of their mouth quirks as they raise a hand to gently cover the flower, ensuring it doesn’t fall due to their quick pace.

The Japanese primrose (sakurasō) comes in a range of colors, including red, pink, and purple, and represents long-lasting love and beauty.

#uraume x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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peachdues · 11 months

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And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after

All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing

No, because this has sent me into a spiral.

Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.

Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.

At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.

But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.

And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.

He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.

Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?

Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.

The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.

And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.

Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.

#sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi drabble #sanemi x reader #kny sanemi #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #kny fanfic #sanemi fic

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nyxthejinx · 8 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

Guess who's back- yeahh Wrio altered my brain chemistry and i gotta cope with everything that just happened in the archon quest (iykyk). I haven't written in ages, I'm a bit rusty :')

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Slow mornings are the sweetest.

𝐓𝐖: Fluff (incredible, I know) nudity and intimacy in general (nothing too explicit, more on the romantic side), allusions to the night before, reader loves wrio's butt and is shameless about it (don't we all), mention of scars (wrio's), I tried to proof read it multiple times but my brain is fighting against me, lemme know if I missed anything

𝐅𝐭.: Wriothesley - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1056

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Eclipse - Pink Floyd

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 that his body is covered with scars, nor does he try to hide them. But the bedside lamp and the afterglow shed a new light on him, one that only you have the privilege of enjoying.

He sits at the edge of the bed, hands by his sides, sinking comfortably in the mattress. The slightest twitch of his muscles can't go unnoticed, not when everything is so slow and still as if time had stopped.

But that's what happens in the Fortress, no? Unless you keep an eye on the watch, minutes and hours blend into a placid flow, until you end up thinking you have all the time in the word.

That's why you lay down the clocks in the room, when darkness begins its descent up in the overworld.

Because you get to see him like this. Sleep ridden, quiet, a bit grumpier than usual. Shamelessly naked from head to toe, with the sheets thrown over his lap for the sake of decorum, as if you didn’t see and feel each other all night along.

This morning too, he stills for minutes on end, staring ahead and gifting you the precious sight of his toned back, now painted with marks and scratches fresh from the night. He runs a hand on his nape, down his shoulder and you know he loves the stinging carvings you left behind with your nails.

But your favourite part rests further down.

“You have a nice butt.” You mumble with a lazy smile, as you let your eyes wander to his lower back. “I ought to tell you more."

Wriothesley looks over his shoulder just enough to glare at you, but you know that fiery glimmer stems from amusement; the way his eyes wrinkle at the sides nullifies the frown creasing his brows.

He's lovely, incredibly entertaining whenever he tries and fails to hide his eagerness for compliments.

The man huffs through his nose, shaking his head before standing up. He holds the fabric around his waist, now covering his rear out of spite, as he rummages through the small puddles of discarded clothes on the room's floor.

You, on the other hand, aren't as diligent as he is. There's no hurry, no impending chores more important than this moment as you make yourself comfortable on your side, in the softness of your pillow —that inevitably smells like him too.

Only a fool wouldn't enjoy how incredibly clumsy he appears right now, fighting with the sheets and getting more and more impatient with every passing second that he can't find his underwear.

It's like admiring the dark side of the moon, knowing that no one else gets the same privilege, the same trust.

Which... Might be revoked after this little stunt you pulled.

"Looking for these?"

Wrio's head snaps towards you and his frown deepens at the sight of his boxers hanging from your hooked fingers. You smirk, backing away as far as you can, until he's forced to stretch across the bed and over your body.

You can't help but giggle and snicker, too amused and definitely too confident in the power you hold over him. You both know his pinky finger would be enough to turn the tables, but he wordlessly enjoys this silly game between you two, just like he adores seeing your petty smirk.

Oh, and how he loves wiping it off your face. If he only had more time, in this dreaded Monday morning.

Without much effort, he eventually grabs the garment. "Pervert." He mutters, pinching the skin below your ribs.

You flinch, chuckling breathlessly. "Mean."

But not wrong. You can't stop your eyes from drifting down, where the sheets have slipped dangerously low after all the fighting.

Everything, from his scarred pecks and abs, to his V line looks so... imperfect, gruff, hostile. He's a man who's rough around the edges, like the claw marks that decorate his throat; hardened by life, on guard all the time.

Untrusting.

And yet, he shows his back to you without much thought.

Even now, with his pants back on, he plops into his previous position idly, placid in his every move.

There's no need to check for threats, because there's none.

And you realise once again —like you do every day— that you're not ready for the sun to come up and for the moon to switch sides.

For him to glance back.

There's things that need to be done, affairs that only the Duke can handle, no matter how greedy and jealous of his presence you are. Your hands itch to wrap around his wrist, to pull him back by your side for another hour or two.

Wriothesley, on the other hand, spins along without thinking twice, as he adjusts his boots back on. Hadn't you known him long enough, you'd dare to say he doesn't yearn for you as much as you yearn for him, but it's the little things that speak in his stead.

It's the lazily unbuckled belt, the messy hair, wobbling around with his every little movement. "I'll do it later, for it means that we'll spend more time together" they say.

It's the blemished, vulnerable back, offered so humbly.

And suddenly you can't resist the urge anymore.

You navigate your way through the sea of sheets to wrap your arms around his waist, and your bare front against his back stops his motions altogether. Blurred memories from the early night flare up one more time, as your lips burn invisible seals on the skin of his shoulder. Every mellow kiss is so fond, intimate. Just for the two of you to feel.

Never have you felt a stronger sense of belonging. Not when he relaxes so easily in your presence and the world ceases to spin.

When turning his back to you feels so natural.

"Be careful, mh?" You kiss the crook of his neck again, while your hands trace the rough skin around his navel. "I want your pretty butt to be safe and sound."

Wrio's deep chuckle shakes his shoulders and chest, and you feel it deep deep deep in your own heart.

"Your wish, my command." He hums, his coarse fingers guiding one of your wrists to his lips.

The moon, you decide, is prettier when it's dark.

DON'T copy/repost/translate my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

#Genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Wriothesley x reader #Wriothesley #genshin Wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin drabble #genshin blurbs #gn reader #genshin fluff #genshin images #| Genshin Impact 🌓 |#| Nyx Writes 🌑 |

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the-daily-slasher · 1 year

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Slashers & an S/O with a 9 to 5

Happy Monday and in honor of all of us with a 9 to 5 and adult obligations I present how each of the slashers react to and deal with an S/O with a 9 to 5 job.

Slasher List: Michael Myers (RZ & OG), Jason Voorhees (OG & 2009 Remake), Brahms, Thomas Hewitt

Michael Myers (RZ):

No. Why?

He'd be dead asleep when your alarm clock would go off during the weekdays. (He'd crushed, thrown, and destroyed a few at this point, yet you always brought another one home from the dollar store)

Your hand hits the alarm before he has a chance to crush it in his. You roll over to get out of bed but his arms tighten around you. A simple, tired grunt asks you to stay as he hides his face in the back of your neck.

"Michael... please." You yawn and try again to sit up but he won't let you. You sigh and lay down, turning toward him and kiss his forehead. "I have to go to work, baby."

Michael just grunts in reply once more. He knew you had to leave but he wasn't happy about it.

Some days he does his best to play the role of househusband.

You'd come home to flowers ripped from the neighbor's yard laying on the table (chunks of dirt still attached to the roots and stems slightly crushed)

Other days (most of the time) he follows you all day. Sometimes you are aware of it, sometimes not. Either way, he views it as his job to protect you.

Michael Myers (OG):

If you're both sleeping in the same bed, good luck trying to get up on time. He won't sleep often, but when he does, he sleeps hard and he does not like being woken up.

He will rip out the insides of any alarm clock that wakes him up (or stab it).

He doesn't sleep often, even around you. He'd much rather watch you sleep. He feels powerful holding you as you sleep. It annoys him when you have to get up and go to work. But he understands the necessity of it.

You going to work puts food on the table and helps him maintain his hiding spot at your house. If you were late or didn't show up he knew people would come looking for you and find him.

He is much more affectionate when he thinks you're asleep. He runs his hands through your hair and holds you against his chest.

Jason Voorhees (OG):

Househusband of the year.

Granted, he hates that you have to leave every day.

Massive Separation Anxiety

He often questions if you'll come back home to him or if this time you're leaving for good.

In the morning when your alarm goes off he shuts it off gently if he wakes up before you. He'll hold you close and rub the small of your back to help you wake up. There'll be no 'being late' in this household! (His mother wouldn't approve)

You roll over to face your big, scary husband. You kiss his shoulder and mutter a quiet 'good morning'. It's met with a happy sigh out and a kiss on your forehead. He holds you for a few minutes, but soon he escapes your arms and goes to make coffee to help you wake up.

As I stated previously, being late is not an option.

Jason Voorhees (2009):

Hates. Hates. Hates that you have to leave every morning five days a week.

Some mornings he doesn't even allow it. You've had to 'call in sick' more than once. Luckily your job is fairly understanding as jobs go.

When your alarm goes off you wake up laying on his chest, a bear-skin blanket laying over both of you. The early morning chill causes you to pull the blanket up closer to both of you.

His quiet, deep breathing shifts, indicating that he's woken up as well. You're greeted with a huff when you kiss his cheek with a 'good morning, love'. His hands find their way to your hips and he holds you against him. You feel something press against your inner thigh as he nuzzles his face in the nape of your neck. You already knew his would be another 'call in sick' type of morning.

Brahms:

No. Absolutely not!

In his mind, he is your full time job.

Every morning the two of you wake up to your alarm he tries another excuse, another proposition, another way to convince you not to go in that morning. He's begged, pleaded, pouted, argued, and even tried convincing you in "spicier" ways ever so eager to please you (especially if it keeps you in bed all day and away from that office job he hates so much).

On occasion you do give in, deciding to call in sick or with car troubles, or something else you come up with to placate your boss.

The mornings he can get you to stay, his ego truly goes through the roof. He did it, he kept his precious doll, his beautiful mistress from leaving him that day (and he is sure to reward you for it).

Thomas Hewitt:

Understands, though begrudgingly.

Part of him wishes you were a little more invested in the Hewitt family business. The other part of him is glad to keep you as far away from that world as possible.

He often wakes up before you to take care of chores before the day gets too hot, so no need for an alarm.

You often wake up to a kiss on the cheek or forehead and the smell of breakfast somewhere in the house.

"Good morning, Tommy." You yawn as you roll onto your back. You open your eyes to see your husband standing over you and you smile sleepily, opening your arms to call him back into bed with you. He sits down beside you and pulls you into his arms and onto his lap. Your head rests against his shoulder as you wake up. He rests his head on yours and holds you until you're awake enough for a cup of coffee.

#slasher community #slashers #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #rz michael myers #og michael myers #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x reader #friday the 13th 2009 #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #michael myers x reader #michael myers

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2-dsimp · 2 months

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Yandere Spin-offs

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Introducing Icha the cult leader

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Yandere cult leader! Icha who holds rituals towards his god Eros to ensure that y’all’s souls are destined to be tied down together forever in the present and in each lifetime.

Yandere cult leader! Icha who’s usually snarky and foul mouthed on the outside. But is actually calm and pragmatic when he dawns his cult garbs and preaches to his followers how they had to pray to Eros in order to fulfill their pure hearted desires of claiming their soulmate as theirs.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who resembles a prickly chihuahua whenever you’re not around for him to blatantly fawn over. He’ll snap at anyone and anything since he’s got a very short temperament and is prone to getting violent.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha that has a long history of anger management issues stemming from a ripe age. Where it was documented that he first punched a hole into the wall. Before ruthlessly assaulting a random boy who gave flowers to you before he even got the chance to.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who’s a total homebody and looks as if he doesn’t work out much with his tall lanky limbs. Rest assured he’s got a sleeper build which helps him in taking care of his ritual sacrifices (His love rivals) in the name of obtaining your love under the jurisdiction of his god Eros.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who’s such a gentleman whenever it comes to taking care of his darling. He’ll open the doors for you, send you flowers/favorite snacks, write love poems, and promise to never ever leave your side even in death. (Literally)

Yandere cult Leader! Icha that actively vandalizes your things. Drawing ritual like symbols in discreet spots upon your bags, hairbrushes, clothes, and even the back of your phone case. He swears he’s not trying to bully you, it’s just a simple incantation meant to attract you towards and ward off any potential suitors who dare to waste your time via unexplainable deaths.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who speaks with a harsh stutter and acts like a love drunk fool in your proximity. He’s an awful klutz to the point where he’d always trip and fall over himself due to his eyes being so focused on over analyzing every bit your gorgeous figure.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha that collects anything belonging to you that you’ve thrown out. such as your trinkets, broken pens, used hair ties, clothes you thought to donate, your used empty body wash, and even bubblegum of which you chewed and spat out in the foil wrapper.

Yandere cult leader! Icha who’s so nasty thinking nothing of it when he opens the wrapper to chew the gum savoring the taste of your saliva. Even going as far as to roll the gum under his tongue and leave it there to marinate so he could fully relish in yalls indirect French kiss.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who spends his time meditating manifestation spells. Trying to summon you out of thin air so he could trap you in his lap and coddle you like the precious babe you are. Making sure to spoil you rotten with his affectionate gestures of love.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who worship his shrine of you alongside his god Eros. Always paying homage to how you made his heart palpitate with every glance and smile you threw his way. Even if you were just trying to be nice and hardly even knew of his existence.

Yandere cult Leader! Icha who’s not above thinking of kidnapping you and stowing you away within the confines of his basement should his god demand to see progress of his love for you bearing fruit (which is Him having a delulu monologue between him and his god basically encouraging him to act on his selfish desires and monopolize you whole in the name of his pure love for you, his sweet lamb.)

#yandere male #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere writing #male yandere #yandere occult leader #yandere concept #yanderecore #yandere content #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere community #Icha the cult leader

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slvt4lanadelrey · 11 months

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Flirty Stranger | Wednesday Addams | part three

Warnings: Wednesday being Wednesday, Kissing

Wednesday (8:31pm)

Dear Y/N,

I'm not quite sure how to use my device, yet.

It would be greatly appreciated, also highly praised if you attend a date with me. Let's say, now. I shall not take 'no' as an answer, I will break into your house again.

From Wednesday.

You (8:33pm)

Did you just address a message like a letter?

Wednesday (8:33pm)

Dear Y/N,

I think it's only proper to address such a formality in such a way,

Furthermore to my previous message, shall I be expecting you? Or should I break into your house once again? Either way, it'll be more than fun for me and Thing.

From Wednesday.

You (8:35pm)

What the fuck is a thing?

Wednesday (8:35pm)

Dear Y/N,

You're avoiding my request, will you accompany me on a date?

From Wednesday.

You (8:35pm)

When?

Wednesday (8:35pm)

Dear Y/N,

It pains me to know you aren't that smart, I just state rather clearly that I am willing to meet you right now.

From Wednesday.

You (8:37pm)

No.

Wednesday (8:37pm)

Dear Y/N,

I will not hesitate to break into your house again, it was rather easy.

From Wednesday.

You (8:40pm)

You just called me dumb :(

Wednesday (8:45pm)

Dear Y/N,

I wasn't insulting you, I was simply stating a fact.

Will you still join me on a date? I have a place where I think you would enjoy, it's deep into the forest.

From Wednesday.

You (8:46pm)

Stop saying Dear Y/N, and stop saying from Wednesday.

Wednesday (8:46pm)

Dear Y/N,

No.

From Wednesday.

Seen

Wednesday (9:13pm)

Dear Y/N,

I'm outside your house.

From Wednesday

There was a faint sound of rocks being thrown at your window, you scoffed in disbelief at how Wednesday wasn't joking. The late fall night meant that the sun had long set, nothing but darkness surrounding your home. The moment your window curtain was drawn open, the soft yellow light seeping into the crisp air: you looked down, there standing was Wednesday with a single black dahlia.

"I'm outside." She stated, tilting her head up to meet your tired eyes. She threw her hand up, showing off the elegant flower she had retreated for your liking.

"I got you a flower, apparently it's appropriate to show off these types of treats during a date. Is it not? My roommate Enid is rather a romantic, have a made a fool of myself?" She all but shouted, no doubt alerting your dad there was an intruder on his property.

Your hand pressed into your eye socket, rubbing the sleep from the place.

"No, no, it's sweet. I'm just tired, that's all." You mumbled, shrugging your jacket further up your body. She nudged her feet ever so slightly into the rocky floor, standing almost awkwardly in the centre of your driveway.

"Too tired to go on a date?" She sounded soft, almost. Her eyes landed on you, through the faint outline of the window you were standing in pyjamas, with a TV show blaring in the background.

"Can you give me 10 minutes to get changed?" She nodded, immediately taking the chance to actually go on a date with you.

You pushed away from the window, walking into your room.

"Can I come up?" She shouted, your head snapped back towards her body.

"I'm getting changed." You mumbled back, pulling your shorts down your body, leaning over to grab your jeans.

"That isn't a definite answer, no or yes?" You groaned, shaking your head at the girl's question. By the time you heard Wednesday move your body was already dressed and ready to enter the cold air of night.

"Do you need help getting down?" She asked, standing back to assess the drop she assumed you'd be falling.

"I'm using my front door, like a normal person." She rolled her eyes, leaning the area to meet you at your front door. When you pulled open the door, treading into the night she quickly pushed the flower into your chest, humming when your fingers wrapped around the stem.

"They're my favourite, I like everything black." She stated when you looked at her in question, you chuckled at the quizzed face she held. You shook your head, quickly re-entering the house to place the flower in the nearest vase.

"I gathered, but I'm just wondering why the Wednesday Addams has gone soft, especially due to a girl." Wednesday faced twisted into a sour state, shaking her head with a snarl.

"Don't read too much into it, Enid forced me to bring it." You didn't let the snap in her tone get to you, you simply leaned into her placing a soft but quick kiss to her cheek. You did however notice the remote way her lip quivered and almost turned into a small, especially the way her ears burnt a deep red.

"You're too cute, Wednesday." Once again, Wednesday didn't appreciate the comment. She stomped away, only turning back when she didn't hear your feet next to hers.

"You're coming, correct?" You snickered at her comment, laughing as you walked beside her.

"Not yet." You winked, smiling brighter when Wednesday flashed you a confused look.

When the both of you were nearest the forest, hopefully not walking into a trap where you'd never return home, Wednesday grabbed ahold of your hand, her cold fingers wrapped around yours.

She walked beside you, her mind assuring that her fingers were tightly wrapped around your hand; she'd never admit it, but you brought a weird scene of peace within her, just the slightest of touches helped calm all her wild thoughts.

"Are we near?" You yawned, your tired state once again drawing on your small frame. She looked around, stuffing her other hand into her pocket.

"Nearly."

Your back pressed into a small cushion, your back facing Wednesday as she set up a movie on the screen. The both of you were in the middle of nowhere, literally in the woods. There was a screen placed in front of the ocean of trees, a small laptop connected to it. She demanded to watch a classic, so when Dracula began to play you weren't surprised at all.

"You know, there's new versions of this show. Like remakes, stories of vampires." You commented, nibbling on the string of your hoodie, she didn't turn around, only groaning at your suggestion.

Soon enough, Wednesday slipped into the space beside you. She is nuzzling down, seeking your body heat for her own.

"That may be true, but nothing compares to the original." You couldn't argue with that logic, she was speaking straight facts. You hummed, subconsciously rubbing your cheek into her shoulder; She tensed, her shoulder going stiff against your touch.

"Are you okay?" You whispered over the movie, hushed but still loud enough for Wednesday's weirdly sensitive ears.

"Nothing. Go back to where you were." She demanded, pressing your back against the blanket and letting your head roll to her shoulder once again.

"I'm refreshed by your love for originals, but seriously, The Vampire Diaries is so good. Rebekah Mikalson is so hot, it's unreal." You mumbled into your hand, placing a piece of candy into your parted lips.

She hummed, offering you more food to stuff your face: hoping it would stop the words from leaving your lips as the climax of the show erupted.

"So fucking hot."

She knew you were going to stop talking, normally she would hate anyone and anything that would interpret her time whilst watching something she loved, but you were an exception, she liked the sound of your voice.

"Stop calling other women hot, whilst on a date with me." Wednesday felt like she drank vinaigrette straight up, a lemon after sting throbbing her tongue.

You giggled, kissing her cheek: her nose flared, the small of cherry lingering around her oxygen.

"I think you're hot too, Wednesday." You tried to ease her, hush her small fear that crept into her shallow heart.

"I wasn't seeking a complement." Wednesday corrected your behaviour, turning a literal cold shoulder on you.

Laughter erupted from your lips, smiling as the end scene rolled. You nuzzled your head into her chest, taking in her enticing scent: the rich aroma of cinnamon and wood.

"Can I?" You asked, your tongue grazing your teeth, eyes low and dark when they grazed at Wednesday's plushed lips.

They looked so kissable, so delicious, you wanted nothing more in the moment. You looked like you wanted to feast on her, act like she was your last meal.

"You may kiss me, only if you-"

Your lips pressed into hers, revelling in the way she gasped then let her fingers wrap around the back of your neck.

Your relationship with Wednesday was teasing, you mocking all her triumphs on winning your heart: but ultimately, she was the one holding the strings all along.

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #lgbt #jennaortega #vada cavell #wlw #lorraine day #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addmas x fem #wednesday #wednesday addams x fem #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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amnesique · 1 year

Text

jealous, jealous, jealous boy — xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

part 1

pairing : xavier thorpe x reader x tyler galpin

summary : less than a week after you slept with tyler to get revenge on xavier, your ex, he finds out about it and comes after you to ask you for explanations, as if you were obliged to give them to him.

warnings : mentions of sex, mature language, angst, slut-shaming, name calling

"you won't believe it when i tell you!" enid said to wednesday in a sing-song tone, taking her usual place at the table, looking left and right, hoping that you or xavier weren't around.

wednesday's facial expression was the same as before, without expressing any emotion, despite her roommate's enthusiasm. no one could tell what was going through her mind. not even enid. but she continued anyway.

enid was known to know everyone's gossip, so it didn't take long for her to find out about what you did to get back at xavier when he broke up with you.

"as soon as xavier broke up with y/n a few days ago," enid started whispering in the girl's ear, though she was still unfazed, "she went to weathervane and she ended up having sex with tyler."

wednesday wanted to roll her eyes at her roommate's words, but she restrained herself from only pulling away from the girl to stare at her intently. "why should i care?"

"why should you care?" the girl repeated after her, her eyes widening. it was the first time that someone remained unimpressed by such gossip, but probably should have expected that from the wednesday addams.

wednesday nodded lightly. if you weren't paying attention, you wouldn't have noticed.

"do you really find it so uninteresting that y/n slept with tyler?" enid asked her, forgetting to speak in a whisper and turning a few looks towards her.

suddenly, being the wrong man at the wrong time, xavier thorpe had appeared near the two girls and happened to hear the last words of the girl with blonde hair, dyed at the tips.

he couldn't believe his ears.

"y/n slept with tyler?" he asked, a short and to the point question, feeling like a damn joke while the rest of the students sighed in surprise while enid put her hand over her mouth, regretting the words that came out of it.

nobody said anything.

xavier swallowed hard and cleared his throat, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "where is y/n?"

"xavier—", enid wanted to say something, feeling stupid that she was so talkative and that the boy found out this kind of news from her, in front of everyone... but wednesday got ahead of her.

"she's at weathervane."

of course that she is there, xavier thought and hurried to leave the school yard, ignoring the looks of pity that were thrown at him, and to hurry to reach the cafe before the end of the lunch break.

meanwhile, not knowing that what you did became the gossip of the week at nevermore academy, you quietly drank you coffee while running your fingers on the stem of the cup and kept your eyes on tyler, who was now taking the order at a table close by.

however, your silence didn't last long because xavier came through the door like a tornado, drawing other looks at him, from the locals of jericho, and startling you when he sat down across from you.

"tell me you didn't actually do it." he said, getting straight to the point, making an effort to look at you with his now dark eyes.

tyler took the order, but stood still, looking at you, twirling the notebook in his fingers, ready to intervene. not because you needed his help, but because he barely had you and didn't want anyone to intervene, especially thorpe.

being truly taken by surprise, you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "do what, exactly?"

"you know what i'm talking about." he answered you, putting a hand on the table, wanting to touch you. in that moment tyler wanted to come to you, but you got scared because of the darkness in xavier's eyes and withdrew your hand, following to let your both hands slip from your cup, and he remained in place, staring at the golden brown-haired boy with clenched jaw.

"no, xavier," you replied in a calm tone, explaining how much the situation was stressing you out, "i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you fucked galpin!" the words came out of his mouth louder than he intended and you swallowed hard.

tyler gave up the damn trust that you were doing fine on your own and approached your table, taking advantage of the fact that he screamed to motivate his intervention.

he put his hand on xavier's shoulder, saying "ok, man, if you keep yelling like that, i'll have to kick you out of the cafe." as if he gave two fucks about his clients at that moment.

xavier snarled, pulling his shoulder out from under tyler's palm so fast it felt like it was burning. "don't you fucking try to touch me!" shouted the boy from the nevermore academy.

tyler threatened him again, this time just with his look, running his tongue furiously across the front of his teeth.

"you fucking fucked my girlfriend, man!" said the boy, standing up, him looking down at him, taking advantage of the fact that he was a little taller. "such things are not done!"

"she wasn't your girlfriend!"

"i wasn't your girlfriend anymore!"

you both said at the same time. first tyler, dropping his head a little to one side, and the second you, getting up from the table too.

xavier had a fake smile on his lips, which instead of hiding his disappointment from the rest of the world, emphasized it more, and he was close to you in less than a second, ignoring the palm tyler placed on his chest to slow him down. "so you admit you did it!" he concluded after your words, raising an accusing finger at you.

driven by the fact that not only was he making fun of himself, but you and tyler at the same time, you erased the space left between you, grasping him by his finger to force him to put it down. "i don't have to admit anything to you. get that in your head, okay?" you asked him rhetorically with a fake smile on your face. "i can sleep with whoever i want as long as you broke up with me." you added and turned on your heels as tyler withdrew his hand, both of you thinking that it was over.

you were so close to leaving the cafe, taking advantage of the fact that you hadn't made a fool of yourself yet, but his voice stopped you, with your hand on the door handle.

"you know what that makes you, don't you?" he asked you and you instinctively turned to give him one last look. "a whore." he formed the word, just by moving his lips, no sound being heard. and somehow, that hurt more.

without thinking, acting on the spur of the moment, tyler pulled him by the collar of his nevermore academy shirt, and punched him directly in the nose, channeling all his anger into that blow.

putting his hand to his nose, and ignoring the bleeding, xavier gave tyler a fake laugh. "that's all you can do?" he asked, trying to mock him, then he turned to you. "have your standards really gone that low?" he asked you, continuing to ignore how his blood was pumping because of the blow.

"don't talk to her!" tyler got in front of him and grabbed him by the collar again.

xavier laughed again, "what are you going to do?" he asked and didn't give him time to answer. "are you going to hit me again?" but as soon as he said this, he changed his mind. "or, oh no, are you going to fuck my girlfriend again?"

"for the last fucking time," tyler said each word through his teeth, squeezing them together as hard as he squeezed fist around his throat. "she was not your fucking girlfriend."

xavier wanted to say something else, but instead he struggled to breathe, making only weak sounds. tyler's gaze took a very dark turn, and you didn't know whether to feel scared, because it was the first time you'd seen him so enraged, or to get turned on because, oh, how good he looked when he defended you.

the door opens and you quickly step aside, still watching from the sidelines as tyler didn't seem to want to let go of xavier.

"what the hell is going on here, tyler?" a very familiar voice thundered throughout the cafe and only then did you move your gaze towards that person, realizing that the person who had just entered was tyler's father. the sheriff.

only then did tyler let go of the boy, who fell towards the edge of the table where you were sitting, clinging to it, to struggle to breathe again normally.

and you would find yourself talking even though you actually knew you were the reason. "believe me, sheriff galpin, i'd like to know that too." you said with a sly smile, making eye contact with tyler, as if he didn't have much left and was killing your ex-boyfriend.

apparently one of the customers announced the sheriff about that whole circus.

part 3

#wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday fandom #wednesday fanfic #wednesday angst #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin angst #tyler galpin fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe angst #xavier thorpe fanfic #love triangle #angst

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thisisourlovestory · 4 months

Text

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 3.2k

Chapter 4

We were immediately assaulted by the screams and shouts of Capitol citizens as they clamoured for a look at us, as if we were animals in a zoo. The only thing holding them back were peacekeepers. I wanted to ignore them, I wanted nothing to do with them, I wanted to just go somewhere far away and never return. But I couldn't do any of those things. I looked to the side and saw Lysander pointing people out, muttering under his breath if he knew them or not, and if he knew them then I knew they were important, in other words they were the richer members of the Capitol and they would be the ones sponsoring tributes. And Finnick had turned on the charm yet again, giving that blinding smile, waving to the crowd, blowing kisses at women who swooned and almost collapsed at the attention. Even Mags was nodding her head at them, a smile stretched across her face at the attention she was receiving, but her eyes weren't smiling, the smile was for show, to keep up pretences. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again.

That's when I saw her. A small girl dressed in a bright pink dress that puffed around her, golden hair coiled in ringlets with a matching bow half the size of her head keeping it out of her face. She was so tiny, and almost being crushed in the crowd, I could see panic on her face about to give way to tears. My eyebrows drew together and I glanced at Lysander before striding over to the peacekeepers.

“Excuse me.” I yelled, “I need to get to that girl there,” I pointed at her, “The one in the pink.” Surprisingly they listened and cleared a path for me. I could hear Lysander calling my name but I walked towards the girl and crouched down in front of her. She looked at me and I smiled.

“Hi there. What's your name? Are you okay?” I asked softly. She nodded, sniffling and wiping her nose.

“I'm Clio.” She answered in a tiny voice.

“There are a lot of people here aren't there Clio.” Nobody was making a sound, too busy watching me. “It can get a bit scary sometimes, especially when you're small like you.” She nodded again. “I'll tell you a little secret Clio.” Her eyes widened a bit and she leaned in. “I'm still scared of this as well sometimes.” I nodded solemnly. “But it's okay to be afraid of things and one day you might just find out that you aren't afraid anymore.” I plucked a flower that had been thrown at us by someone from the concrete floor, a pink carnation- my mind supplied, I snapped the stem and tucked the flower behind her ear. I smiled and she threw herself at me. Surprised, I patted her on the back and pulled away after a few seconds. She smiled back at me and held out a bouquet of flowers, all different colours and shapes, as I took them she tucked a white rose behind my own ear and whispered something.

“I want to be like you when I'm older.” The words hit me somewhere deep inside but I managed a smile and pressed a light kiss to her forehead before I walked back to the others. They all stared at me but I did what I did best and ignored them as people started calling my name much louder than before. My little display of humanity must have done something, made them feel something for once for that to happen.

Flowers sailed over my head and jewels clattered on the ground as they became even more frantic to catch our attention. I felt Finnick's gaze on my back as I walked just a little in front of them, lifting one hand at a time to wave to the crowd. They went wild. Scrambling over each other to get closer to me, yelling my name louder and louder. One step in front of the other. Petals from flowers crunching underfoot. I smiled slightly as we finally got to the Remake Centre where our stylists would be. Peacekeepers waiting inside separated us and led us off to different rooms in the vast interior. The last thing I heard as the elevator doors shut was Lysander talking to Mags, I only caught the end of his sentence.

“An angel.”

I stood awkwardly in the elevator, four peacekeepers accompanying me. Four. Did they think I was Cashmere or Enobaria? Because I had never had more than one accompany me at any time. They only give you them if they think you're dangerous, but there was nothing dangerous about me at all. So why? A ding sounded and the doors opened, I was taken to a room and left there alone, simply looking around the room. It was all white, stark bright white, clinical almost and like freshly fallen snow, pristine. I waited for a few minutes, kicking my feet under the table I had decided to sit on, before a small group walked in, chattering away. They gasped immediately upon seeing me. Two women and a man, all with brightly coloured hair. They hurried over to me and introduced themselves.

“I'm Antonia,” said the one with bright blue hair, “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Priscilla.” The other girl with silvery hair said brightly. I studied them, they looked similar, sisters maybe.

“I'm Quintus.” The man said. “We are your prep team.” They all smiled at me, a gesture supposed to be calming but the looks in their eyes made me nervous, and within moments the girls were stripping me of my clothing and bundled me into a bathtub filled to the brim with steaming hot water that was almost painful to touch. Antonia sprinkled bath salts into it that smelled overwhelmingly of lavender and mint. They scrubbed me with soap until my skin was red and raw but left a weird sparkle to it. My hair was shampooed and conditioned within an inch of its life, not a single tangle could be found once they were done with it. Then, they dragged me out, dried me off with a fluffy towel and wrapped me in a silk robe. They directed me to lie down, then they proceeded to tear out every scrap of hair on my body that they deemed unfit to be there. Warm wax spread across my skin, almost comforting before the pain that followed, then cool gel to stop the sting in one spot as they repeated the process again and again and again until I felt like a plucked chicken. Quintus spread some kind of clay mask on my face and let it sit while the others rubbed scented oils into my skin and sprayed perfume over me. He peeled the mask off and brushed some cream across my skin leaving it smooth and soft. I went to touch my face but he smacked my hand away, scolding me as if I was a child.

“No, no, no. You don't touch, we just got all the dirt out. Don't touch.” I didn't try to touch it again. They cleaned my nails, filed them into an almond shape and painted them a shining pale pink with pearly white tips, then did the same to my toes. They plucked and perfected me as if I were a doll for them to play with. All the while they chatted mindlessly and not a single word they said held any meaning to me. Talking about how exciting the games this year would be, who they thought would win- they assured me after that they definitely believed it could be me, I knew they were only lying to make me feel better. Fortunately for me they completely ignored my mark, perhaps they thought it was simply a tattoo since they were very common in the Capitol. Unfortunately for me they did not shy away from mentioning how attractive they found Finnick. I believe Antonia's exact words were that he could ‘Do whatever he wanted to her as long as the last thing she saw was his face.’ At that point I decided that the best thing would be to not listen so I tuned them out and nodded occasionally so they thought I was paying attention.

When they finished with me I had been primped to, what I assumed was in their eyes, perfection. They sat me down and inspected me, silently for once. Quintus hummed.

“Good job ladies.” He praised Antonia and Priscilla. Then to me. “Your stylist will be here in a moment. After she's dressed you, we’ll do your hair and makeup.”

"I thought that you did all that before.” At the confused look on my face as I spoke he elaborated. “She decided to do things a bit differently this year. Something about us being able to make you look better if we did it after because we would know what the dress looked like.” He rolled his eyes. “I don't understand personally but she's the boss.” Then they left. Giving me small waves and whispering to each other.

I stayed seated, wrapping the robe back around my body tightly, shivering as the cold air touched my legs. The door slammed open and I jumped, my head snapping up to see a woman. She was wearing a long black dress that had shimmering blue detailing on it at the hem and bodice. She smiled at me, her white teeth standing out against her dark skin.

“Hello Y/N. I'm Megara.” She said as she walked over to me. I could see her more clearly now. The blue on the dress was in a swirling pattern that reminded me of the waves back home, her hair was cut short with a fringe that fell just above her dark eyes that were flecked with green. “First I'd like to say that I admire what you did for her. Annie. It took great courage to volunteer to come back. Second, I am your stylist this year and I have a lot planned. Third, you're going to look incredible.” I blinked, surprised at how blunt she was.

“I've never seen you before.” I stated and she grinned.

“It's my first year styling for the games. I'm younger than the others but I've learnt a few tricks from my older brother.” I tilted my head questioningly. “You may have heard of him. His name is Cinna.” I tapped my fingers against my skin.

“Katniss Everdeen's stylist.” She nodded and hummed.

“Yes. And this year my mission is to beat him. Well, less of a mission, more that I just want to rub it in his face when my outfits for you are so much better than the ones he's made for the girl on fire.”

“How are you going to do that?” I asked softly and her grin widened.

“My brother uses fire. So I'm going to use water.” My eyes widened and I sat forward.

“What do you mean?”

“I'll explain later but for now you need to get changed into these.“She waved a hand in the air dismissively and shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. “Once you’re ready I’ll get the others back in and let them do what they do, then I'll explain what’s going to happen out there.” She shoved the bag she was holding into my arms. I walked over and into the tiny changing room and just before I shut the door she called out over her shoulder. “And I actually want you to wear the bra and pants. Unlike anyone else in this place.” I snorted with laughter and closed the door. Once I was alone, I zipped open the bag and emptied the contents onto a bench. A set of white underwear, a simple white dress and a matching set of heels. I quickly pulled them all on and stared at myself in the mirror on the wall. The dress fell around my body in a sheet of white, it clung to the upper half of my body like a second skin but flared out slightly at my waist and hung loosely to swing around my ankles. The sleeves sat off my shoulder, exposing my neck and collarbone, the sharp bones almost seemed to cut through my skin, the sleeves fell down to my wrists and the fabric formed a sharp point where my middle finger joined to the top of my hand. The shoes were open toed, thin straps crossing my ankles and just above my toes, they were unfortunately heels and incredibly uncomfortable. I walked unsteadily back into the room, arms thrown out to the side to balance myself. The second I stepped in, Megara whirled around and her hands flew to her mouth.

“Oh. You look perfect. The dress suits you so well, now sit, sit.” She waved me to sit down on a chair in the centre of the room. I sat and the prep team ran back into the room.

I was immediately swept up in a whirlwind of activity. They whipped out brushes, makeup palettes, hair brushes, sponges, pins, elastic bands, curling tongs, straighteners, and… was that a measuring tape? Quintus yanked my arms down to my side as Priscilla opened a huge case. He barked orders at her and she handed him everything he asked for. He painstakingly applied the makeup to my face, muttering things under his breath and twisting my head to inspect his work. Eventually he pulled back and Antonia took over. She brushed my hair viciously, making sure it was as smooth as possible. Then she curled it loosely, letting the curls fall down my back in spirals. She pulled the front part of my hair back and plaited them tightly around the back of my head in a crown. She twisted the loose strands out and let them gently frame my face, featherlight touches of hair against my cheeks. They finally stepped back to admire their work and gestured for me to stand up. I wobbled to my feet and gave a little spin, letting the hem of the dress flare out around me slightly.

“You are a masterpiece my dear.” Quintus told me. “You look incredible. Nobody will be able to top this.”

“Don't mess up the hair.” Antonia chimed in from behind him. I looked over my shoulder to see myself in a mirror Megara was holding up. They had given me only the thinnest layer of makeup to conceal my flaws, then added sparkling eyeshadow and dramatic mascara to lengthen my lashes. In effect, it made my eyes look larger and more pleading, more innocent. The dress revealed just over half of my back, cutting down in a soft curve and exposing the thin silvery scars weaving their way along my skin. Practically invisible from a distance which would be fine but close up they seemed to be the only thing you could see. They weren't ugly per se. They weren't as bad as some of the scars other victors had. In fact I quite liked them. They reminded me of home in a way. The way they twisted unpredictably across my skin like waves. Always changing, never staying the same for long. So no, they weren't ugly, at least not to me. To me they were beautiful. They reminded me of all the trials I had suffered, the torture I had undergone a few years ago when President Snow made me an offer. And I had refused. But you can't refuse Snow and expect to get away with it unpunished.

My hair was perfect, pinned up just right and styled in a way I never would have been able to recreate myself. The sleeves covered up my mark which was good, I wouldn't want to have to explain that to anyone, especially not the man I would be on the chariot with. I twisted my wrists to look at the palms of my hands rather than the white satin, soft against my sharp bones, reddened dents from my fingernails lined them, small bruises from smacking my hands down too hard on corner surfaces and calluses spread across them. Perfect as far as they could see, with the best clothes, flawless makeup . But not really.

“Now hold still just a moment dear.” Priscilla swooped down on me like a vulture, brandishing baby pink lipstick and gloss. She swiped them onto my lips as quick as a flash, leaving them slightly tinted and glowing. They all turned to look at Megara and when she gave a decisive nod of approval they all filed out of the room, lugging behind their suitcases and bags. No sooner had they left the room, Megara sat me back down and brought out a jewellery box. She reached in and took out a sparkling diamond necklace. I gasped and she clasped it around my neck.

“So the necklace is really just for a bit of bling. This is the pièce de résistance.” She dipped her hands back into the box and extracted a delicate tiara, thin pieces of silver wrapped around diamonds and pearls. She placed it gently on my hair, tucking the sides of it under the braid to secure it. “Now you look perfect.” She told me, holding up the mirror so I could see myself again. I took in the plains of my face, she was right, I did look the perfect part. She interrupted my thoughts. “I should tell you I have no idea what Finnick will be wearing because his stylist has hated me ever since I refused to go out with her brother. “ She rolled her eyes. “It's a long story that one. But given his appeal to the Capitol I would say it'll be interesting to say the least. In any case, you'll look incredible next to him. Now I should probably tell you what you're going to do when you're in the chariot okay. So listen up because I'm only going to say it once.” I listened intently, a smile blooming on my face as she gestured wildly, animatedly explaining her master plan to me. I asked a few questions which she answered, albeit a little reluctantly. Then she was checking her watch and ushering me out the door and down to where the chariots would be waiting. “We have half an hour until the procession. I know I'm only your stylist but try not to draw too much attention to yourself. Although that may be hard considering this dress. “ I laughed loudly.

“Don't worry Meg. I'll be fine and it'll all work out. I promise.” I clasped her hand in mine and grinned. “Now I'll make you a bet.” Her eyebrows rose and she leaned in. “I bet you Finnick will be wearing nothing on top and not nearly enough on the bottom.” She eyed me up and down.

“Okay then, why not. I'll take my chances. Besides,” she smirked,” I'm not so sure you'd necessarily be opposed to that.” Her eyes latched onto my wrist and she gave me a knowing smile as I flushed bright red. “I won't tell. I promise. We can gossip about it later.” She winked and with that was gone, yelling over her shoulder. “See you out there angel.” I smiled at her antics, a smile quickly replaced as peacekeepers escorted me through the doors and into the huge space where all the tributes were gathering. I took a deep breath and prepared myself.

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @thatonegayloser616 @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis

If you want to be added to the taglist let me know!

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x you #thg x reader #the hunger games #angst #catching fire

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starboy-sirius · 7 days

Text

may 1 | animagus | @jegulus-microfic | 1.1k words

Prongs roams the Forbidden Forest, his flank heaving from the long run he just completed. He’s walking slowly now, allowing the breeze of the night to waft around him and past his snout, all the different scents of the night intriguing the animal within him.

He’s alone tonight, the moon shining down upon him as a waning gibbous, and as he looks up at it he can’t help but think of Moony. Remus is resting tonight, he and Sirius curled up in the common room together sharing a smoke, and the thought causes his tail to wiggle. It’s much like Padfoot gets around them.

Remus and Sirius finally got their shit together a month ago and James couldn’t be happier, because it means that he doesn’t have to deal with their mutual pining. James being the kind of man desperate to help his friends with any inconvenience, ended up getting both ends of their quiet yearning.

Of course he was very happy to be a shoulder for the both of them, but he can’t say that he’s not relieved now that it’s over. A whining Sirius can be very hard to deal with, mainly because he clings to James and refuses to do anything else.

So James is out here alone because his best friends are happily lounging together on the sofa in the common room, sharing cigarettes and kisses as Remus no doubt reads Muggle literature to Sirius, who sits with his back to Remus’ chest. And he’s happy for him, of course he is, but there’s also a part of him that feels incredibly and indescribably lonely.

The sharp crack of a twig broken under someone’s foot is what snaps him back to Prongs and the current situation. He sniffs the air, trying to pick up a scent and is pleasantly surprised by what he finds. He slides into a trot, wandering through the trees and bushes until he gets closer to the edge of the forest perimeter. He’s coming up to the glen of pretty flowers that bloom no matter the season. When James is out here on a full moon his priority is making sure that Moony doesn’t get too close to the edge of the forest, knowing that Remus doesn’t like to chance anything. It means that he doesn’t get the time to appreciate the pretty places that the Forbidden Forest has to offer, which is totally okay because James knows that the main reason in his own little furry ability is to help Remus with his.

In the middle of the crop of flowers, surrounded by tall, imposing trees, is Regulus Black.

He’s standing in what appears to be silky pyjama bottoms with his Slytherin jumper thrown over the top. It’s a mild Spring evening, so James isn’t particularly worried about him being cold. Merlin knows that Regulus wouldn’t like it if James were to badger him about wearing a coat.

James is fairly content to stand at the edge of the trees and watch the pretty boy pluck the colourful flowers from the ground, collecting them in a bunch in his other hand. He watches the way his long fingers reach out, flexing as they decide which flower to pick, and then as they clasp the stem and pull. He watches the way his dark curls fall over his face and block the view of his steely eyes, the ones that flash at James whenever he dares to flirt with him. When he’s out of Sirius’ range, James gets rather shameless with his flirting and delights in the way that Regulus explodes like a bomb, firing insult after biting insult at him.

He stalks forward, trying to observe from a different angle and is stopped in his tracks by Regulus’ head snapping upwards. James is rewarded by the view of his grey eyes and lets out a puff of breath that he’s sure would be a fond, dreamy sigh if he wasn’t in his animagus form.

Regulus stares at him like he’s seeing one of the seven wonders of the world, eyes twinkling like the galaxy resides there, and it spurs Prongs forward. Regulus doesn’t move an inch as he stalks towards him until they’re metres apart, and Regulus takes a cautious step backwards. Prongs whistles in disapproval and Regulus freezes, his eyes never leaving the large stag in front of him.

“Good, uh, deer?” Regulus mumbles, looking embarrassed.

Prongs makes a noise closely resembling discontent. Regulus raises an eyebrow. “Not a deer?”

Waving his head back and forth, Prongs tries to show off his majestic antlers so that Regulus can identify him properly. He seems to understand, clever as he is. “Ah, not a deer, then. A stag, perhaps?”

Prongs hops around him, strutting as he does so and Regulus lets out a happy, quiet laugh, watching him all the while. James thinks it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “Very impressive, indeed.”

Trotting back over to Regulus, Prongs stops much closer than before and brings his muzzle down to the top of Regulus’ head, burying it in his curls and huffing contentedly. Regulus stays very still as he does so but allows him to sniff and nuzzle him. Very carefully, he brings up a delicate hand and begins to stroke at his neck.

“Oh,” Regulus makes a surprised sound. “You’re softer than I thought you’d be.”

Prongs releases a pleased hum and steps closer to Regulus to encourage more petting. Regulus laughs that sweet, quiet laugh once more and continues to massage Prongs’ neck. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. He’s a bit needy like this, too. Always following me around and bothering me.”

Prongs makes a disgruntled noise. The thought of him actually bothering Regulus with his presence makes him feel worse than he did when he originally came out here to clear his head. Regulus seems to read into his sudden mood change and says, “Don’t worry, secretly I quite like it. But that’s our secret.”

He lets out a happy little bellow and hops a few times, careful not to tread on Regulus’ feet. The two of them continue to stand in the glen for a little while longer, Regulus talking to him in hushed tones as he explains why he’s picking flowers. Prongs makes affirming noises here and there, wanting to let Regulus know that he’s listening. Regulus stares at him when he does this, pausing in the middle of his speech to stare openly at him like he’s trying to read him.

James thinks he might be on to him, but then that’s ridiculous. Who in their right mind would think oh, that stag is paying undivided attention to me, must be James. No one, that’s who.

When the night starts to get a bit too cold, Prongs is nudging at Regulus’ side and the boy relents. “Okay, okay, I’m going. See you here tomorrow night?”

James wouldn’t miss it for the world.

#james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #marauders #dead gay wizards #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #writing #harry potter #marauders fandom #the marauders fandom #it's not really that micro #i'll do better next time #microficmay2024

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

fluffy eddie request: getting eddie flowers. (maybe as a gift/for a special occasion, or maybe just bc) and he’s really surprised bc no one has ever done that for him

any universe btw it’s up to you 😉

Making Eddie all flustered is my favorite thing, oh my goodness. I set this in one of my older!eddie universes in my brain, but there's literally no mention of anything that keeps this from being just a fluffy little Eddie stand-alone blurb.

Words: 1k

The plastic wrapping around the bouquet crinkles as you bounce up and down on the balls of your feet. The metal steps up to the trailer door squeak below you. It seems like ages ago that you rang the doorbell, though it had probably only been about six seconds. Finally, Eddie’s heavy tread comes closer and the doorknob rattles from the other side. A grin grows on your boyfriend’s face as he takes you in.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “I thought you’d be here a little later. I haven’t even started making dinner yet.”

“That’s fine,” you say with a shake of your head. Eddie notices your fidgety state and the way you’re biting at your bottom lip. He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! I just, uh, got something for you,” you say, a shy smile growing on your face.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Eddie moves to the side so you can come in. You do so carefully, taking care not to let him see what’s behind your back. “Whatcha got?”

You wait until Eddie has shut the door and turned back towards you to reveal your gift for him. It’s a bouquet of a dozen red roses with soft, white baby’s breath mixed in. Your boyfriend’s eyes go down to the flowers and a confused look pinches his brow even as he smiles.

“They’re for you,” you say, as if it wasn’t obvious.

His eyes come back up to meet yours. “These are for me?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I saw them, and I knew I wanted to buy them for you.” When he doesn’t say anything, you feel your pulse begin to pick up. “D-Do you not like them?”

“No, no, baby!” His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “They’re beautiful. I’m just surprised that you wanted to get them for me.”

He takes them from you as you frown in confusion.

“Why?”

“Well,” he says, admiring the blooms. He clears his throat. “I’ve never gotten any before.”

“No one has ever given you roses?” You pout. That doesn’t seem right. Eddie is the kindest, most loving man you’ve ever met, and he deserves to be showered in gifts and sweet gestures. You’ve heard about his past relationships, and some of them were pretty serious. How was it that none of those women gave him the most recognizable symbol of romantic love?

Eddie lets out a small sniff and doesn’t meet your eyes. “Um, no one has ever given me flowers before.”

“That’s…” you trail off with a shake of your head. There aren’t words for how preposterous that is. “Eddie, that’s ridiculous. No, it’s more than ridiculous. Why?” The question isn’t really posed at him, but he still shrugs.

“Don’t know,” he says in a quiet voice. You take a step closer to him and he lifts his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are slightly misty, and it feels like there’s a fist clenching around your heart. “Thank you.”

“Hey,” you say, resting a hand over his where it holds onto the wrapping covering the stems. “You deserve all the flowers. I’d pick all the tulips in the Netherlands for you if I could.”

This gets a chuckle out of him. He brings a hand up and rubs at his eyes with a groan.

“Gah, what’s the matter with me?”

“Nothing,” you tell him.

Eddie takes your hand in his free one and gives it a squeeze.

“It’s not like…an anniversary or something, is it? Because we met in January, so most of those firsts happened not long after that…” he trails off, clearly wracking his brain to see if he’s overlooked something.

Chuckling, you shake your head. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to give them to you because I love you.”

The romantic gesture has completely thrown Eddie off. Sure, he’s done romantic things for women in the past, and especially for you, but it’s not something he has ever been on the receiving end of before. He hadn’t even thought about it, to be honest.

“These flowers are just because?” he asks.

Playfully, you roll your eyes at his double and triple-checking. “Yes! Just because.”

A grin begins to form on Eddie’s face. It’s small at first, but you see it grow incrementally until it reaches his eyes, causing them to crease in corners as he beams down at the bundle in his hands.

“I don’t know if I have a vase,” he eventually says.

“I’ll look,” you volunteer. There’s not much room to store things in the trailer, but you do a thorough search and manage to find an old glass jar that’s big enough to fit the bouquet in. Once you’ve filled it with water, Eddie slides the roses and baby’s breath out of the wrapping and slips them into the water.

“They’re beautiful,” Eddie says as he watches you arrange them a bit, helping every flower get its chance to be seen. “Almost as beautiful as my girlfriend.”

Heat rises up to your ears as you look over your work. Pleased with the floral setup, you turn to Eddie and cup his face in your hands.

“Nothing’s as beautiful as my boyfriend.” Pride swells in your chest when you see him get a little bashful, a hint of red appearing along the apples of his cheeks. He reaches his hand out and ghosts his fingertips across the soft white petals on the smaller flowers.

“What are these things called?” he asks.

“Baby’s Breath.”

Eddie turns slowly to face you and raises his eyebrows. “You tryna tell me something?”

You tilt your head, giving him an unimpressed look.

“No, Eddie, I’m not pregnant.”

He slips his hands around your waist until they’re resting on the small of your back. Gently, he tugs you closer until you’re chest to chest.

“You wanna be?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #roses collection #request

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whatamidoingwithmylifelmfao · 11 months

Text

So, no berries? Finnick Odair x reader smut

6/24/2023. This is a Finnick Odair x reader smut. Don't like it, don't read it.

Warnings: Almost character death. Minor character deaths. Public sex. (They're in the arena). Takes place in the third quarter quell. Rough sex. Unprotected sex. (Please be safe). Minor degradation.

My feet were racing across the rugged ground. My mind was spiraling and everything seemed to be whizzing past me. All of my attention was on the ground as I tried not to trip over the uncared-for vines of the jungle terrain.

The clock-like workings of this arena was taking a significant toll on my body. I had been separated from Finnick and now I was possibly going to be killed.

I don't honestly know what I was expecting. Having both Petta and Katniss in the arena with me put my odds at an astounding zero of getting out of this alive. But now it seemed as if I wouldn't die from another tribute, but my own starvation.

I had made it out of the affected area meaning I would at least be safe for a while. Or as safe as I could be in a place like this. I could hear a cannon fire in the distance, and part of my heart leaped in distraught when I thought of it being Finnick.

I found a cave hidden under some brush and managed to nuzzle my way in past the vines. I sat down and rested my back against the wall. Trying to regain my breath and stamina. I pulled the sack off my back and ruffled through the contents.

I had water, which I happily guzzled down. But upon searching for my food rations, I realized they were gone. Possibilities of what could have happened scrambled through my mind, but there truly was no telling what could've happened to them.

I sighed in utter defeat, laying against the cave wall, closing my eyes, and just wishing for this to stop. Hoping for my suffering to end. Then, my senses were engulfed. Pure sweetness making itself known. My eyes shot open and they darted around the cave floor, trying to find the source of the aroma.

My eyes locked on to some beautiful berries in the corner, and I thanked whatever god that was out there I was given some mercy. I crawled to them, picking them off the bush they stemmed from.

I held one in between my pointer and thumb, trying to determine what kind they were. Just when I was about to let one slip into my mouth, I heard it. My name being called. It was Finnick.

Without thinking twice, I called back, and within moments I heard his footsteps outside the cave.

"Are you in there?" He asked.

"Yes," I managed to mutter out, despite the fact my voice was hoarse, and yelling for him hurt it more.

I saw the vines being pushed away as his broad frame slipped in. I saw his smile grow before dropping completely. He raced towards me and I flinched back. Before I knew it, the berries were ripped out of my hand and thrown outside.

"What was that about?" I whisper yelled.

"Those are poisonous, are you trying to kill yourself?"

"No, but I was going to starve anyways," I stated matter-of-factly.

He sighed reaching back into his own bag, and pulled out some bread. It looked squashed, but it was food.

I grabbed it from him. Before I tore into it I looked at him and said, "So no berries?"

He froze, and while he sat there, I began to eat. There wasn't much there, but I could've sworn it was the best thing I had ever had.

Once I got done and returned my attention to him, I finally took notice of the way he stared at me. His eyes were filled with mixed emotions, some I couldn't make out. But one was very evident, fear.

"What's wrong?"

"You."

"What do you mean 'me'? What did I do?"

"You almost killed yourself, that's what you did. Do you ever think about the risks before you do things?"

Before I could give my rebuttal, his lips were pressed to mine. I let out a little squeak as big hands rested on my waist and I was pulled into his lap.

"Finnick, what are you doing?" I panted, once again out of breath.

His lips started to trail down my chin and to my neck, and between his kisses I made out "need to be with you, before I lose you."

My heart raced and my hands rested on his shoulders. He looked at me and everything else seemed to disappear.

"Is this fine?"

"Yes," I answered, locking my lips to his.

He was everywhere. He was everything.

My clothes were off before I even knew it. He was between my legs, taking off my underclothes as he looked me up and down. I could feel my face turn red.

"You're so beautiful."

"So are you."

He smiled at me and that was the last thing I was conscious of as my head fell back. His fingers were plunged inside me. They were working at such a quick pace and it made my head go empty. U could hear him muttering under his breath and I could hear him say something about me being his slut.

For some reason, this made the electricity in my stomach grow faster, and suddenly I was clenching around him. My head was thrown back and one of his hands was over my mouth while the other still worked inside me.

I came down from my high and watched him pull his fingers out of me. He pushed himself completely between my legs and lined himself up.

"Is this still okay?"

"Yes, of course," I whispered.

He groaned and then pressed himself into me. I let out a gasp and he quickly got to work. One of his hands was still over my mouth while the other was set against my hip. He was clenching his fingers against my skin in a bruising grip.

He was thrusting at a pace where I was never empty. I could hear him making soft sounds under his breath, clearly trying not to make noise. The whole world was gone except for Finnick inside me.

My world felt like it was crashing down in the best way possible as I met my second climax of the day. Finnick made a sound and his movements started to get sloppier, faster, and much more intense.

"Inside, please," I got out from behind his hand.

He moaned, pushing his head into the side of my neck before his movements stilled and I could feel hot liquid inside me.

My body fell back, now in relaxation as he rested himself against me.

Even if I die, at least I got to have sex with Finnick Odair.

That's a wrap. I hope you liked my first post. If you have a request, my asks are open :).

#the hunger games #catching fire #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #x reader smut #fanfic #the hunger games x reader #finnick odair x reader smut #smut #finnick smut

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666writingcafe · 20 days

Text

Level Two

Dedicated to @ehejhrhrhrht-blog

Content Warning/Summary: MC literally gets thrown, Beel acts like a predator, biting

Your next session is in the twins' room. Prepare for a crash landing.

If I was a rational human being, I would have stopped the test after passing the first stage. The fact that I managed to resist one of the oldest demons in existence should be more than enough for me to get rewarded the star of chastity. I could have put this whole thing behind me and relaxed the rest of the evening.

But I tend to get tunnel vision when it comes to completing tasks. Even if I get incredibly frustrated, I hate stopping before I'm finished with something. I want to see it through to the end. It helps boost my confidence.

And so this silly little lamb walks up the stairs and stops in front of the door leading to the twins' bedroom.

Out of mere habit, I knock on the door. There have been too many incidents of me stumbling into something that I wasn't meant to see for me not to. Usually, there's some sort of response. Either "come in" or "Give me a minute" or even "I'm busy".

Not this time. Instead, I get radio silence.

Is it too late to back out? Surely, they'd understand me getting cold feet, right?

Don't be a coward. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?

Despite knowing that hardly anything good comes out of that question, I find myself opening the bedroom door. The next few seconds go by in a blur as I'm yanked up off the ground and sent flying across the room. As soon as my back hits the headboard of the the bed, I'm caged in by a body towering over me.

"I could eat you right now." Judging by the ravenous look in Beel's eyes, I think he means that literally. And not in a sexy way, either.

"Please don't." I feel stupid saying that, but it slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it. Beel chuckles, sounding harsher than usual.

"Well, of course not, MC. That would ruin half the fun." He forcibly tilts my head and licks down the side of my neck before biting down on it. Hard. I cry out in pain, but he ignores me as he begins sucking.

A warm feeling courses through my body, and it takes a lot of willpower for me to not allow it to control me. I have to look for an opening, and quickly.

Thankfully, one arrives when Beel lets go of me and begins repositioning himself, creating just enough space for me to roll off the bed.

"Playing hard to get, are we?" he asks, smiling menacingly at me. "I've always enjoyed a good hunt."

I nearly leap off to the side as Beel launches himself at me. His disorientation from hitting the wall is brief, but it's enough time for me to run over to Belphie's side of the room.

Something tells me that in order to pass this level, I have to find the note myself. I can't just ask Beel to hand it to me; that'd be too easy. I begin looking through Belphie's things, occasionally pausing to throw things at Beel to slow his progress.

My search turns up nothing. I stop moving momentarily as I think about where else the note might be, and Beel seizes his opportunity. Picking me up, he nearly slams me against the wall, once again pinning me in place with his body.

"Got you," he growls, resuming his attack on my neck. My hands grab wrap around his waist in an attempt to remain upright, and I feel something brush against my side.

Of course. His jacket.

One pocket contains a bunch of hard candy. I have more success with the other. Plucking the note out of it, I let go of him, allowing myself to side down to the floor.

Beel's eyes flicker towards the note I'm holding, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he steps back.

"Thank goodness," he murmurs. "I wasn't sure how much more you'd be able to take." He kneels down in front of me, still keeping his distance. "You had no idea how shocked I was when Asmo told me about this particular daydream of yours. I used to act animalistic in order to scare people, not to attract them." I shrug.

"I think it stems from me wishing that you wouldn't view me as being fragile," I explain. "I know that by being human, that makes me weaker than demons and angels, but that doesn't mean that I don't have any strength. I'm not going to shatter into a million pieces if you want to act more roughly towards me from time to time." He sighs again, sounding more weary this time.

"I know. You're one of the strongest people I know. I just don't want to do anything to permanently hurt you. You mean too much to me for me to do that with a clear conscience." He gets up off the floor and walks over to his bed, opening one of his bedside drawers and pulling out a bag of chips and a bottle of water.

"Here," he states, returning over to me and handing the items over to me before starting to pick up the mess I made on Belphie's side of the room.

"Do you need any help?" I ask.

"I got it, MC. Just focus on recovering."

#obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #i was trying to do something different than the usual “beel overstimulates mc by eating them out/giving them multiple bjs” content #while popular for good reason #it still can get repetitive after a while #i know this is on the violent side of things #but i feel it fits in with the whole demon thing #i believe that for the sake of diavolo's mission the demons are holding back in order to behave themselves #and mc #silly little lamb that they are #wants to see them act more like demons sometimes #don't know if any of that makes sense

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harrysarchive · 1 year

Text

so you wanna

marry me?: h.s.

pairing:

tattooartist!harry x baker!reader

warnings:

smut 18+ please, h eating out reader that's it, oral (f receiving) in a tattoo parlour (scandalous;) ) .

summary:

"but what if i wanted to propose to you? wanna get you ya dream ring bee." he grabs ahold of my hands and brings them to his lips pressing kisses on my knuckles.

i pull my hands away and grab ahold of his face and pull him in for a kiss, " i'd marry you with a ring for the coin machine at the pizza place down the street."

harry's overworking himself for money to afford for the future.

another adventure with tattooartist!harry x baker!reader.

p.s.a. want it to be known that h and bee have been dating for about 3 years in this one shot🫶🏽

𝐘/𝐍'𝐒

𝐏𝐎𝐕

i let out a string of hums as i walk over towards harry's tattoo parlour, a pip in my step. i decided to bring him lunch knowing he likes to over work himself. (especially on fridays and saturdays knowing those are his busiest day's.) letting out a sigh of relief when i see the parlour the dark colours contrast with the lighter coloured buildings. i walk into the building and see all black walls with plants hanging and placed on counters. niall is the the first person i see and i greet him with a wide smile.

"hey ni!" i muse to him and he smiles at me.

"hey bee, how's it goin'?"

"good, brought har some lunch."

"oh he's with a client but you can go ahead," he pointed to harry's private room, "did you bring me anything ?" he sassed crossing his arms over his chest.

"ya didn't ask for anything." i huff rolling my eyes and walking towards harry's office.

as i get closer to the room an obnoxiously loud laugh echos through the halls. oh great another flirty girl trying to get her way with my man. i decide to knock on the door and harry lets out a curse.

"who the fuck is it?" he snaps before the doors thrown open and his glare is set on me before it melts into a smile.

"brought you lunch asshole." i chuckle holding up the bag of takeout.

"thank you m' heart. come in." he move to the side and i slipped through the door.

my eyes land on the obnoxious loud girl, blonde hair, petite shape, lululemon jacket and shorts. she raises an eyebrow at me before asking, "who are you? this is a private appointment."

"she's my girlfriend." harry answers pulling out a rollie chair he has in the closet that he got for me.

the chair looks odd in the dark room, black walls and blue accents make it look like a elephant in a room with puppy's. it's pink and in the shape of a daisy with a crocheted white blanket sitting nice and folded on the cushion.

"oh well, i would like for my tattoo session to be private." she said voice filled with venom.

"oh well, you're just a walk-in and i'm pretty sure nialls done so you can either let her stay or get the fuck out." harry snapped at the girl and she huffs before sitting on the tattoo chair.

i quickly sit in my chair and roll over closer to harry, he hands me a scrunchie and mumbles, "can ya put it in a bun bee." i let out a 'mhm' and quickly tie it up in a bun making sure it's nice and tight.

"can you lay down." he says to the girl and motions her to the chair.

i quirk an eyebrow at the blonde headed girl who laughs like she's heard the funniest thing in the world, harry raises an eyebrow as well at her before his face scrunches in confusion, obviously confused at what's funny.

"what's so funny?" he asked bluntly before shifting to sit fully on his chair.

the girl giggles again before putting a hand on his bicep, "you, silly!"

"all i said was to lay back." he scoffed motioning to the chair.

she obliges and lays down, i look at her sketch and a small smile makes its way to my face. it's two cherries stuck together by the stem, and little twinkles shine on them.

"it's cute." i mumble to her and she scoffs.

"i know, that's why i'm getting it."

"don't be bloody rude." harry barks at the poor girl, "she just complemented you."

it goes silent after that Kings Of Leon's Sex On Fire playing is the only thing heard. harry lays the stencil on her upper thigh he asks if that is where she wants it and she nods.

"how was your day?" harry breaks the silence as he starts his tattoo gun up.

"it-" i start but the girl cuts me off.

"it's was good, i went out with my friends and had brunch and then i went to the mall-" she also starts but she's cut off by harry.

"i didnt ask you." he deadpanned before looking over at me, "how was your day bee?"

"it was good, was kinda busy at the bakery, you know it's saturday and all the mums go out to walk around the strip buying all their nick-nacks. martha said she could handle the bakery but she hasn't text me so i don't know, maybe i should message her. anyways then i went to the library bought two books, i started one of them and it's alright, it's just a bit slow you know the whole introduction part is always boring to me." i trail off and he chuckles nodding his head, "then i went to kung fu chop to pick up our food."

"ya left my favourite person alone on one of ya busiest days?" harry fake scoffs and i chuckle.

"y'know what she told me, 'i can handle it, ya being an uptight pussy!' " i let out a laugh as i recall martha scolding me with her hands on her hips.

harry lets out a snicker, "that's ma girl."

the girl is looking at me with a scowl on her face, i can see the botox failing to do it job, wrinkles showing as her forehead is scrunched. i raise an eyebrow at her and she lets out a huff before her face turns into one of fake discomfort.

"ow! that one hurt!" she whines and harry looks at her.

"buck up." i murmur and harry snickers.

"so harry, was it?" the girl starts before laying a hand on his forearm.

"yes. can you not hold me ya gonna end up fuckin it up." he shakes her off before finishing off the little twinkles.

"what do you do for fun around here? 'm not from holmes chapel." she continues to talk.

"nothin'." harry response turning off the tattoo gun and placing it down, he takes out healing ointment as spreading it with a tongue depressor. "but if there's one thing i love to do its probably ma girlfriend."

i hold back a snort as her face drops, harry wraps the tattoo before taking off his gloves and pointing towards the door, "niall will get you it's gonna be a hundred."

"you're the worst tattoo artist i know!" she huffs jumping off the chair.

"ya too kind!" harry sneers sarcastically as she basically runs out of the private room and he slams the door.

i strut over to harry and wrap my arms around his shoulders, he turns in my arms and looks down at me. he looks drained and he's definitely in need of a nap, his under eyes drag down and a frown is settled on his face.

"oh h, have you not been taking care of yourself?" i tsk in a whisper and he shrugs his shoulders, "babe this isn't healthy look at you, you need to allow yourself to have breaks, you look overworked h." i kiss his forehead and he sighs.

"you know saturday's are one of my busiest days bee, we need the money for our expense."

"we have more than enough harry. we're in a good place in our life." i say caressing his cheek.

"but what if i wanted to propose to you? wanna get you ya dream ring bee." he grabs ahold of my hands and brings them to his lips pressing kisses on my knuckles.

i pull my hands away and grab ahold of his face and pull him in for a kiss, " i'd marry you with a ring for the coin machine at the pizza place down the street."

he lets out a snort before capturing my lips with his, he captures my bottom lips and gives it a bite, his hips roughly move against mine looking for friction.

"wait," i push him off and point to the door, "tell niall you're on break and lock the damn door."

he looks at me with twinkling eyes and a smile, " 'f course ma heart, ya bloody amazing." he rushes over to the door fixing himself and shouts at niall, " 'm on break don't let anyone in."

"you guys are fuckin pigs." niall gags and harry flips him off.

he quickly closes the door and locks it before walking over to be and pushing me towards the tattooing chair. his hands find themselves under my shirt and he unclasps my bra, the straps fall down my arms and he quickly takes my shirt off.

"ya tits are bloody amazing'." he gives me a toothy grin and i snort.

"ya like a teenage boy, swear it."

"cant help it, it's like they get bigger each time pet." he muses as his hands find their way back to my boobs, he rolls my nipples between his pointer finger and thumb, his eyes turning a darker shade of green as he looks at me. i let a moan slip as he bring his mouth to one and tugs on the other.

"yea, just like that h." i mewl as i grab ahold of the hair tie in his hair and watch as it loosely falls into place.

he lets his hands explore my body and they make there way to the button(s) of my jeans, harry lets out a groan, "i fuckin hate these jeans."

"they make me look good! and my ass looks fat in them!" i try reasoning with him as he undone all six buttons.

"swear to you, 'm gonna throw them away when we get home." he promises as one of his hands dips into my panties.

"no! they're ma favourites- oh!" i let out a moan as his fingers make there way down my slit and he slowly starts rubbing circles on my clit.

he keeps his torturous slowly speed before pulling away full and i let a whine of displeasure out. harry doesn't waste anytime pulling down my pants and panties, he sits in his rollie chair and spreads my legs before licking his lips, "got the prettiest pussy bee."

"harry!" i whine at the praise and he chuckles before placing hot wet open mouth kisses on my calve and trails up my thigh.

a gasp leaves my mouth as he press a hot kiss on my clit, my hands automatically grab ahold off his long hair and giving it a tug. he lets out a grunt before licking a strip up my cunt, my eyes start to roll back as his skilful tongue works it's way through me. he drags a finger up to spread my folds before he stuffs two in me and places his mouth back on my clit. stars start appearing in my vision.

" 's so good h!"

"yea? ya gonna cum for me bee? want you to cum all over my face." he murmured.

the knot in my stomach ties tighter and my air feels like it's being sucked away from me. harry works his tongue and fingers faster as i clench around him.

"gonna cum baby!" i let a pornographic moan out and clutch his hair tighter.

"fuck, pull tighter bee." i automatically oblige and yank harder causing him to moan loudly, "cum for me bee, i fuckin need you to cum."

the knot starts to fall apart as my orgasm hits me, my legs shake and i choke on my breath. harry let's me ride out my high before he stands up and places a kiss on my lips.

"taste better than any of that damn frostin' you make, swear it bee."

i catch my breath and a lazy smile makes its way to my face, "don't know if that's a complement or an insult to my baking.

he snorts and grabs the bag of take out, "whatcha bring me."

"sushi, rice and noodles, orange chicken, and honey walnut shrimp." i hum and go to sit up.

"hold on bee lemme get you a wipe and your clothes." he hums moving over to the drawer and grabbing a wet wipe, he gathers my clothes before sitting in front of me again. i let out a hiss at the contact of the cool wet wipe and my hot cunt.

"sorry, know you're sensitive didn't mean to pet." he quickly apologised and i smile shaking my head.

"it's okay, just a bit cold 's all."

after he finishes cleaning me up, he kisses my thigh before redressing me, "so you wanna marry me?" i teasingly ask and he smirks.

"wouldn't want it any other way."

a/n: sorry it took me so long but i've been super busy and i'm currently working on a request someone sent in! so that one should be next :)

fratboy!harry x professor!reader 😳🤭

-all the love,

xo🐝

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literatecowboy · 5 months

Text

Dr. Feelgood

8. Extraction

Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley. Warnings: Gunshot wounds, medical terminology and procedures, finger up the butt, new/unsure writer

Masterlist For This Fic

-----

Ghost watched as you fiddled nervously with your tac gear, your heavy pack dangling from his grip as if it weighed nothing at all.

“How do I look?” you asked nervously, taking the pistol Ghost had entrusted you with from its holster and examining it for the sixth time that hour.

“Damn fine if you ask me.” Ghost grunted, patting the top of your helmet twice. He took the goggles from the top of the helmet and pulled them over your eyes, gently resting them in place.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he murmured, watching as you shoved Ghost’s pistol back into its holster and adjusted the goggles to your liking.

“I haven’t been on a mission like this in years. Not since I was a marine,” you admitted, sighing and looking toward the helicopter that would carry you to the rest of the 141.

“It’ll be easy, love. It's just an extraction and nobody’s hurt. In and out,” Ghost said.

Down the flight line, the helicopter pilot called out and the rest of his crew started approaching the bird. When you turned to follow, Ghost swatted your backside gently.

“Go get ‘em, love.”

—

The flight seemed to drag by. You’d watched through one of the tiny windows as the figure of Ghost got smaller and smaller on the ground until clouds obscured your view before sitting back with a sigh, your pack weighing heavily on your lap.

And then, ten minutes away from the evac zone, comms burst to life. Distorted gunfire crackled through the radio and into your headset, making you jump and reach for your pistol on reflex.

“Position compromised, taking heavy fire! Evac, where the hell are you?” Gaz’s voice was muffled by the sound of an explosion and the pilot grabbed his radio.

“Copy, not far out now. Bunker down, we’ll return fire from the skies.”

One of the helicopter’s doors was thrown open roughly and the mounted machine gun awoken, the gunner taking hold of its controls and aiming the thing down into the forest. After a moment a burst of automatic rifle fire ripped into the bird. The machine gunner returned fire instantly, silencing the men behind the automatic rifles.

You caught sight of Price dragging Soap’s body through the tall grass, occasionally pausing to fire his weapon in the direction of the combatants. Not wanting to waste a second, when the helicopter was low enough, you leaped from inside and unholstered your pistol, keeping low as you raced for Price’s position.

He’d hunkered down behind a rocky hill and was doing his best to tend to Soap. As you ran up to him he raised his rifle at you, but upon recognizing you, lowered it quickly.

“Is the sergeant dead?” you asked, dropping to your knees and pressing two gloved fingers to Soap’s throat.

“No.” you and Price said in unison as you dumped your pack from your back and tore into it for fresh bandages to stem the bleeding wound in Soap’s head.

“Cover me.” you barked as bullets soared over your position. Soap’s eyes fluttered as you filled a syringe with a dose of painkiller and injected him with it.

“Hey, bonnie,” he said weakly, doing his best to smile at you. You were quick to discard the syringe and press gauze to the wound on his forehead, blood soaking the cloth almost instantly.

“Stay with me, Soap,” you ordered as you quickly but carefully wrapped bandages around his head, doing your best to ensure they’d put pressure on the wound.

The gunfire around you slowed to a stop and almost immediately the helicopter landed. As Gaz came running up to you, Price shouldered his rifle.

“We need to leave. Now.” he barked, nodding his head at Soap. In an instant, he and Gaz were hauling him up and heading for the helicopter.

“Be careful with him!” you begged as you ran beside them, tossing your bag into the helicopter and watching as they gently set Soap down on a stretcher.

As the helicopter took off again you looked him over.

“Where else are you hurt, Johnny?” you demanded, feeling his arms and legs and unbuckling his tac vest to check for signs of wounds.

“I’m fine bonnie, please don’t put yer finger in me bum,” he babbled, his eyes wide and unfocused. One of his pupils was dilated to an extreme.

“He got blown back by that explosive. Just bashed his head in the wall.” Gaz said as he leaned over Soap.

“He’s concussed but he’ll be fine. Are you hurt?” you asked, turning to Gaz. He shook his head.

“Me and the captain made it out without scratches on us. Didn’t come into a fight until the very end,” he said, shaking his head. You glanced up at Price who nodded before sitting down heavily in one of the helicopter’s seats.

“You went on a date with the LT while we were gone.” Soap slurred and you turned back to face him, feeling your body grow hot.

“What makes you say that?” you asked, checking the tightness of the bandages around his head. Soap merely pointed at the weapon in your holster - the pistol decorated with engravings of skulls and bones.

Gaz burst out laughing.

—

“You’ve got to stay awake, Johnny.” you scolded, snapping your fingers in front of his face as his eyes fluttered shut for what felt like the millionth time that night. You’d all made it back to base safely, and aside from Soap’s concussion and other injuries, everyone was doing quite well.

“M’ fine. Just tired.” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes and wincing.

“I need to keep monitoring you tonight, it’s important. I promise that you’ll be able to get some rest tomorrow,” you said, folding your arms over your chest.

“Listen to the doc, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice rang out from behind you, making you both jump.

“Steamin’ Jesus, LT, didn’t hear you come in,” Soap mumbled, sitting up in his hospital bed and reaching for the glass of water at his side.

“You scared me,” you murmured, standing up and turning to face Ghost.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, opening the door to your office and gesturing for you to go inside. Your brow furrowed.

“Sure…stay awake, Johnny. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, slipping into the office. Ghost followed and shut the door behind you.

“What’s up, is everything okay?” you asked. Ghost nodded.

“Of course. I attended the debrief for the mission and Price pulled me aside afterward. He told me what you did.” he said, folding his arms over his chest.

“I did my job, Simon. What of it?” you asked, stiffening.

“You weren’t supposed to go into the firefight like that. You should have waited until the hostiles were eliminated before moving in,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“And leave him dying on the ground? I’ve been in firefights before. I was a marine. I know how to handle myself,” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Ghost growled, grabbing your hands and squeezing them.

“Well, I didn’t, and everyone ended up okay. You don’t expect me to just stand idly by when my friends are in danger, do you? You’d do the same thing and you know it, so why lecture me?” you growled, pulling away from Ghost.

“Because I’m falling in love with you.”

You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head and moved to open the office door to leave.

“Simon, wait,” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him back toward you. You embraced him, unable to stop the tears falling from your eyes. He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, gazing up at him. Simon shook his head.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you. You were right - I’d have done the same.” he said.

You stood like that for a minute, embracing each other, listening to your heartbeats in the quiet room.

“Price pulled me aside. Said he was aware of our situation,” Ghost said after a minute. You pulled away slowly.

“And?” you asked, eyes filled with worry.

“He approves.”

—

You left the office with Ghost behind you a little while later. Soap was laid back down in the hospital bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling slowly.

“Oh God,” you groaned, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

“I’ll handle him. You go get cleaned up, you had a busy day.” Ghost said, squeezing your hand before letting go and heading to Soap’s hospital bed.

You left the room as Ghost leaned over Soap’s bed to whisper in his ear.

“I did more than take the doc on a date.”

Soap bolted upright in bed.

-----

Taglist: @iamaliceinwonderland, @itsmeamysworld, @ghostlythots, @oranoyaora, @keiva1000

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #cod modern warfare #simon ghost x reader

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