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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

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Choso getting hopelessly seduced by another blood manipulator

Jaw-Dropping gorgeous pic from none other than @sanicsmut - go check out their work here and give a big LIKE

Pairing: Choso x fem!hemomancy!reader (=basically someone who is able to use blood manipulation without jujutsu and advanced, read more here

Word Count: 2,4k

Synopsis: It seemed so easy at first: find Itadori Yuji, kill him, take revenge. Only until you showed up and captivated Choso Kamo, only until you showed him what you can...

Warnings: this gets a little smutty and heated from time to time so be prepared, reader is pretty badass I love her in this one, since this took me quite some time I'd truly appreciate you guys liking, commenting or reblogging my work - thank you <3 Also, special thanks to @yukiotacon - I truly hope you enjoy what I came up with!

Also, special thank to @sanicsmut for allowing me to use that stunning piece of art as a cover - click here to leave a like, comment or reblog for my babe ♡

„How on earth did I get here?”, you mumble to yourself, humming while walking down the empty hallways of Shibuya’s train station.

You know damn well why you’re here, roaming around this area with a clear aim.

“We’re talking about a lot of money here. Money for someone who isn’t even able to use jujutsu at the moment”, the white-haired man sitting in front of you clarified amused.

You smiled to yourself, stalked him like a hunter stalks his prey until you trapped him between your arms, a lustful grin appearing on his face.

“The success of hemomancy is as guaranteed as the fact that you’re oh so excited right now, Mr. Gojo”, you purred.

Oh, how much you enjoyed the way his heart started to pump faster immediately, how his blood began to rush into his crotch area.

“If you fail, I’ll be there to finish off what you started. And who knows, maybe even you.”

Why does it have to be so damn entertaining to play with men, to feel their blood rush through their veins? Well, what is even more exciting than that is making them kneel in front of you just before you turn their own blood against them.

Hemomancy, the magic of blood, the reason you are able to control both your own blood and the blood of others. No matter where, no matter when. Completely without their so-called jujutsu.

“Jujutsu…”

You huff in sheer amusement.

“Why on earth would you need something like that?”

“Who are you?”

Your eyes widen just the slightest bit, mind caught off guard while you search for the person who just spoke out of nowhere. How is it possible that didn’t detect the flow of this strangers’ blood earlier? Normally, you are able to catch every living being in the blink of an eye.

“Better question is who are you”, you reply dryly, eyes scanning the area in order to find this person.

His low voice tells you that he has to be a man, maybe a few metres away from you. But where? And who the fuck is he to not get caught by your powers?

“I’m not here to play games.”

Suddenly, he is near – way too near for your liking. And there it is, the presence of his blood, the way it pumps through his arm when he’s about to hit you with full force.

“I’m either.”

All it takes is a swift motion of your finger to stop his flying fist mid-air.

“There you are”, you announce provocative, turning around only to be greeted by his eyes.

You stop in your tracks. What a pair of gorgeous eyes he has, widen in utter disbelief by the fact that you have the control over his body. But not only that, you can tell that he’s well-trained underneath that cloak.

“Definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you naked”, you mutter, eyes roaming over every inch of him.

“Are you a witch?”, he presses out, arm visibly fighting against your force.

You can’t help but chuckle, the struggle written on his cute face being the most amusing thing you’ve seen in a long time. Elegantly, you kneel down next to him in order to meet him eye to eye, fingertips caressing his cheek gently.

“What are those?”

These lines decorating his face, engraved into his otherwise flawless skin. A tattoo, some strange birth mark by any chance?

“Slicing exorcism.”

It happens faster than you’re able to react. Before you even realize what’s going on, something pierces right through your shoulder, cuts through your tender flesh with ease.

No, not something.

“Blood manipulation, huh?”, you choke out, the floor underneath your feet instantly discoloured in crimson.

Choso creates distance between both of you, eyes examining every minor move you make. Who are you? You don’t seem to have any cursed energy. But how were you able to control his arm, to stop his powerful slash in the matter of milliseconds? It was almost as if…

As if you’re using a special form of blood manipulation yourself.

“Let me make this clear.”

He squints his eyes in confusion when you begin to walk towards him, your uninjured arm stretched out in front of you. A swift motion of your hand and he lands on the cold floor all over again, feeling as if an invisible weight pushes him into the earth. No matter how hard he tenses his muscles, no matter how desperately he fights against that force, he can’t escape you.

“There is no fucking way you’ll escape me, okay? Interesting, you have to be a member of the Kamo clan, am I right?”

“None of your business”, he spits into your face.

Your hand yanks towards his neck, squeezes ever so slightly while your face is only inches away from his. That dreadful gleam in your eyes, the fact that you wear a small smile on your face despite he just destroyed your shoulder forever.

“Let me tell you a secret, Mr. Kamo.”

Carefully, you drag your nail along his neck until blood spills, earning a low groan from him.

“Do you know anything about hemomancy?”

Hemomancy…No, this can’t be real. He thought the magic of blood disappeared from the surface of the earth with the new century, forgotten by the modern people. But you…He stares right into your confident face, watches in horror as you collect the trail of blood from his neck with your finger and lick it clean.

Oh, what a wonderful metallic taste, maybe one of the best droplets you ever enjoyed. Very fitting for a man like him.

“The magic of blood, the power to control both your blood and the blood of others, to create weapons of blood to use your own blood to poison, to use others to…”

“Heal”, you finish his sentence.

“You know quite a lot about hemomancy. I’m impressed.”

The weight on his shoulders disappears out of thin air, makes him yank up out of instinct. Choso watches carefully as you stretch both of your arms into the air, circle your injured shoulder…

That isn’t injured anymore.

“So you know you have absolutely no chance to defeat me, no matter how great your blood manipulation is, right?”

Choso wants to dash forward, to hit you with full force, to finally find Itadori and take revenge for the death of his brothers. But instead, he simply stands and stares at you with trembling hands. Despite every fiber of his being urges to fight against you, he knows you’re right.

“Good.”

Again, you walk towards him with your heels clicking against the hard floor. His eyes dart up and down, take in your appearance. You look absolutely threatful, maybe even more dangerous than Mahito or Geto will ever be. Why are you even here? Whose side are you on? There isn’t enough time to ask you these questions.

Your hand finds his chest, glides up onto his back ever so gently.

“What’s your name?”

“Choso Kamo”, he finally gives in.

“Choso, huh?”

You let your finger glide over his muscular chest, up to his traps made of gold until you reach his firm back. What a force of a man he is, maybe the best one you’ve seen so far.

His breath gets caught in his throat, your touch burning like a thousand fires against his skin. But no, not like pain. What is this strange feeling building up inside his body? What is this unknown urge that slowly but surely takes control over him? Choso looks down at you with flustered eyes, takes in your sight. Is this what people call attraction?

“Don’t”, he warns you half-heartedly, his hand grabbing your arm.

This is enough. He needs to get going, needs to find Yuji Itadori and kill him, he-

His arm moves around your waist on its own, pulls you closer to his aching body. Are you using your powers, are you forcing him onto you? No, his body moves freely, presses itself against you out of instinct. He was never this close to a woman before, let alone a jaw-dropping gorgeous one like you. So this is the reason why all those stupid humans hunt after each other, why unwise feelings like love even exist.

“Do you want me to leave?”

The way your thumb glides up and down his back threatens to drive him insane any minute, eyes captivated by your hypnotizing orbs.

“I don’t know”, he breathes out.

Oh, but you do. The way his blood pressure and heart rate shoot up, his blood flowing straight down. You can’t help but bite your lip, even your own breath now coming uneven and shaky. You’ve seduced countless men in your lifetime. Fuck, even Gojo himself would have nailed you right on the spot if you didn’t leave back then. But this time, the sensation of the game itself becomes incidental. This time, your own blood rushes through your body uncontrollably.

“You aren’t a human, are you? That body definitely isn’t from this world.”

You allow your needy touch to discover the valleys of his body even faster, to enjoy the sensation of his hot breath against your cheek.

“I am…incarnated.”

Incarnated? The world of jujutsu is far too complicated for you to grasp. But still, you know he has to be damn powerful, that this body holds a lot of potential. This body with all those firm muscles. This body, radiating a heat you’ve never felt before.

“Tell me, what are you doing here, Choso?”

It takes all his strength to not moan out loud, to stay focused when your hands stroke up and down his chest.

“I am here to kill Yuji Itadori”, he also reminds himself.

This is ridiculous, wrong in so many ways. Why is he out there, allowing a woman he never met before to touch him so casually when he swore to his brothers to seek revenge?

Something inside you clicks. Yuji Itadori. One of the names Gojo told you when you met.

“I see”, you purr.

“Let me ask you one more thing. Where you ever kissed before, Choso?”

Kissed. The act of caressing each other’s lips as a symbol for affection. He’s seen it countless times in many centuries and never understood the sensation of it. But now, staring at your perfect mouth, watching as your tongue wets your lips…

“No.”

You smile softly, siren eyes switching between his lips and eyes.

“What a shame when you have lips so kissable.”

With one quick movement, you put your hands on the back of his neck, pull him so close that your lips are only inches apart.

“Please.”

The innocent word escapes his lips before he’s able to stop himself, chest rising and falling so rapidly that Choso feels like fainting for a second. What is this strange feeling, the spell you put on him? It has to be the power you radiate, the way your face seems somehow appealing to him. Has he ever seen a stunning creature like you? No, you have the brightest eyes he’s ever seen, a body that makes his mind wander.

“Your plea is my command.”

When you press your lips against his, allow him to taste what kissing feels like for the very first time, something inside Choso snaps. His hand grabs your waist roughly, presses you even closer while his other hand desperately searches for hold in your hair. Screw if this is your magic, screw if it’s nothing but a foul trick. You feel so intoxicating, your lips moving so effortlessly against his own that he sees stars. You taste like mint with a tint of iron that drives him insane.

“Choso”, you whimper against his lips, your very own hands searching for hold on his tight biceps.

What a force of a man he is, a remarkable kisser despite the fact that he probably never touched a woman without killing her before. If you had known how good this feels, you wouldn’t have wasted your time on mere mortals. Not even Gojo Satoru caught your attention like he did.

Suddenly Choso feels like he can’t breathe anymore. But not from the sensation your lips have caused, not because you hold onto his neck. No, this is something different. This feels like death.

He lets go off you immediately and stumbles backwards only for you to casually follow him and catching him right before his gorgeous figure hits the ground.

“Don’t take this personal, Choso. But I can’t allow you to kill Itadori Yuji. Not when Gojo payed me a shit ton of money in order to protect his precious little students. I’m a woman who keeps her promises, y’know?”

“What…did…you…do…”

His tongue feels as heavy as concrete, the ability to control his own body slipping through his fingers with every passing second.

“You said it yourself.”

You wipe over your lips, revealing a tiny trail of blood.

“ ‘to use your own blood as poison’, wasn’t that what you just said? Don’t worry darling, I won’t kill you. But you won’t be able to kill Itadori Yuji either. Now sleep tight. I hope we meet again to continue what we started when you wake up.”

No, he needs to fight against it, he needs to get off the ground, fulfil his duty to kill Itadori Yuji. He…

The last thing he notices are your lips, gently pressed against his cheek.

And then everything went black.

Bonus:

“You have to be kidding me.”

“Why would I do that, Mr. Gojo?”

You continue casually filing your nails while none other than the one they call “the strongest” starts to have an emotional breakdown in front of you.

“I thought you felt the tension between both of us as well! You…You said to me that-“

“I needed this job”, you clarify dryly.

“And what about him!?”

He points towards Choso who is lost in his conversation with Yuji. You simply shrug your shoulders.

“He’s everything I ever wished for-“

“AND I’M NOT!? Is it because you share the same powers-“

“We don’t share the same powers-“

“Is it because he’s taller than me!?”

“He’s not taller than you.”

“Is it because he has dark hair!?”

“What the hell are you so worked up about man?”

“I need to get out of here”, he announces so dramatically that you’re convinced he’ll faint any given minute.

“Gojo-sensei, are you not feeling well?”, Yuji questions, lines of worry decorating his innocent face.

“I’m far away from feeling fine!”

“So dramatic”, you mumble to yourself.

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coeurify · 1 year

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𝐈𝐟 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤

pairing & wc : ellie williams x fem!reader. wc: 6.8k

description: a new girl sets her eyes on you, and ellie has no patience for it. you both pay the price for her attitude.. but oh if walls could fucking talk.

warnings: listen to if walls could talk by 5sos. harsh language, drinking, jealous!ellie. name calling, spit, oral!r receiving, fingering!e receiving. the nickname pup is used, dom/sub dynamics.

The air in Jackson was sweet tonight. You can taste the spring wind on the tip of your tongue as you laugh— the early may breeze filling your lungs with something crisp enough to freshen you. Something that settles on your skin with the same dewiness as the petals of flowers that bloom near the doors lining the main street.

Dirt from the gravel road kicks up into the settling sky as Jesse makes a move with his boot, pulling another chuckle from your lips. Your cheeks are as pink as the evening sky already, caused by the laughter that spills between your friend group. Four noisy twenty-somethings clambering toward the Tipsy Bison, spitting jokes between yourselves.

You find your focus setting on the pink and orange hues in the sky, looking much more painting-like than anything of reality. Your eyes follow each brush stroke with curiosity, the pre-game sips of liquor stolen from a house’s cabinet sitting low in your belly.

Dina appears next to you and pushes her shoulder into yours, bare skin pressed against each other. It was finally warm enough to rid yourself of the scratchy long sleeves tucked in your closet, and you were taking full advantage. A low-cut and thin short sleeve tucked against your body, which gained you whistles when you showed Dina earlier. The slam forces your head to tilt down from its place in the clouds. “There's a new group Maria let in,” your friend says, pulling your interest directly into her brown eyes. Those brown eyes shift to the girl walking beside you, who stares between the two of you with a smile. “You hear about them El? All I know is some of them are around our age.”

Ellie’s shoulders shrug, green eyes flicking from you and then back to where Jesse was now knocking through the door of the Tipsy Bison as he owned it. “Heard Tommy says it's about 6 of them, two around our ages, the others older. Seems like they caught wind of us and fought to get here.”

Dina nods along as Ellie speaks, bumping into you slightly as all three press through the wooden doors of the establishment. Jesse has already made his way to the bar up front, waving all of you over with one short movement that points to the empty stools beside him.

“Maybe we’ll make some new friends?” You suggest. You watch as Dina and Ellie both take seats on either side of Jesse, yourself sliding into the stool next to the auburn-haired girl.

The soft glow of fading lights above your heads paints everyone in a sweet orange tinge, flushed cheeks set on four faces from the quick walk across town. A soft song plays that you can’t quite make out, just a hum against the decoration-covered walls as the group begins chattering again.

“New friends?” Jesse asks, hand already wrapped around a drink he must have ordered the second he sat down.

“You would know what we were talking about if you didn’t run off in front of us,” Ellie muttered, nodding her head toward the familiar face behind the bar as he asked what she wanted.

“You know how Jesse gets, El. No mind on that one,” Dina smiles, hand coming up to mess his hair from its place. “There's a new group in town, some our age,” she explains to the man, who nods and makes an ooo noise.

“We don’t need more friends. Plus Jesse’s already frustrating enough to deal with,” Ellie cut into the conversation again, lips fighting back a grin.

“Why are you so on my ass tonight, Williams?” Jesse asked, a hand reaching to his chest in faux hurt.

“You just get that out of me,” Ellie shrugs.

“C’mon, you just don't wanna share your girlfriend with anyone else,” Dina motions to you, earning a very obvious eye roll from the girl beside you. “You barely let us get time with her.”

“Yea,” you nod, “Ellie’s just obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” Ellie mumbles into the glass that had just been pushed in front of her. Your eyes linger on her a little too long after her comment. They then fall back into their position staring at the bottles behind the bar, choosing between what you want. It doesn’t last long, your usual drink coming to mind.

Jesse and Dina bicker to your side, over something as ridiculous as the color of the sky outside, as usual. You don't pay it much mind, your head falling to rest on Ellie’s shoulder, glancing up at her as she takes a sip of what you assume to be whiskey.

“Order me a drink,” you hum, batting your pretty eyelashes at your girlfriend. She shifts a bit in her seat, looking down at you.

“Can I get a please?” She requests, eyes swiping away from your own as the words come from her lips. You make a face, eyebrows pinching together. “No?”

Ellie treats you to another eye roll, pretty emerald flashes that make you lift your head away from her shoulder, knowing you won. Ellie motions the bartender over, muttering the drink order she knew by heart.

You grin, placing a few loud kisses on her cheek. The act scrunches up her nose and brings the bickering couple’s attention back to you, embarrassing Ellie further. Jesse purses his lips together to make obnoxious smooching noises, rewarding him with a harsh shove from Ellie.

The drink is placed in front of you as Ellie and Jesse delve into another low-stakes argument, which you pay no mind to. You raise the glass for a sip, which is cut short by the door pushing open, gaining your interest.

Two young-looking people walk in, followed by Maria. She says something to the man and woman that you can’t make out. The man seems roughed up, and your mind seems to tug a string between him and the earlier conversation with Dina and Ellie. The girl beside him looks a little less nervous and less fucked up. Her eyes search the bar curiously, feet bouncing.

Maria sends them off with a short pat on the back, likely after some spiel about interacting with the residents. Dina seems to be watching the same show, already having hopped out of her seat to skip to you, grabbing your arm.

“That’s them,” Dina says, ignoring your partners who are still acting like children, now demanding the other can’t drink as much.

You nod, taking another long sip from your glass before slipping from the barstool to follow her. There isn’t even a whisper of apprehension on her features as she walks toward the two, but your feet drag slightly behind.

“Hi! You’re the new ones right?” She greets both, through her eyes fall on the bruised cheek of the man first. “Shit, you already get fucked up?”

Beside her your throat clears, warning Dina to not push too far. She doesn’t seem to get the hint, still reaching out to shake his hand. The man accepts, shrugging gently as his eyes shift around.

“Ran into a group right before we made it here, one of your patrol groups found em’ and us. They shot both of us till we told them what we were here for.”

Dina nods, “Well, guess you got a warm Jackson welcome,” she grins like she’s the funniest person in the world as she says it, quickly introducing both herself and you.

“Will,” the man says in response, grinning. You can see Will relaxing slightly at the seemingly easy welcome he was receiving in the closely-knit town. You didn’t have the heart to tell him Dina was just like that, so you flash a smile back at him before your eyes follow the new voice. It was the girl, her eyes dead set on your face.

“Pretty name,” she comments, her blonde hair flipping behind her shoulder as her head tilts lightly. You glance away, hoping it was directed instead to Dina. Though the gaze that doesn’t break from your face seems to challenge that.

“I’m Jess,” the blonde adds quickly after, saving you from any embarrassment as Dina quickly jumps in.

“Oh! My boyfriend’s name is Jesse, how funny. Come on you have to meet them,” Dina nods her head toward the bar, where you can feel two sets of eyes burning into the side of your face. It seems Jesse and Ellie noticed your disappearance, chins tilted up in confusion as they watched the conversation unfold. For a moment you meet Ellie’s eyes, hoping she hadn’t heard Jess’s ballsy remark. But the way her jaw clicked told you she was already in a mood about the girl next to you either way.

Your shoes press into the wood floor, dreading the attitude you knew was about to come from your girlfriend regarding the two new bodies that followed you back to the seats. Ellie was always unsure of new faces and never bit back remarks that conjured up due to this. A tough face thrown on top of a slightly anxious body, Ellie believed the spitting words were just protection. It was a disastrous mix, one that often ended in arguments.

More familiar faces flood into the bar as the sun sets outside, the open space becoming slightly louder as people settle in. You hope it brings a sense of attitude suppressant to the auburn-haired girl you sit next to. A larger crowd usually shut her down. Some of this hope shrivels into a ball in your throat as Jess picks to sit on the other side of you. If you could tell the new girl she just sat on a fucking match you would have, but Ellie beats you to it.

Her arm stretches out behind you, the inked-on leaves now on display, sleeves bunched to her elbow. Her eyes meet Jess’s, but you know who the gaze is really directed at. Her arm purposefully presses into your back as she introduces herself, looking for a handshake. You can feel the fake confidence melting off of the skin that touches you.

“I’m Ellie, and she is my-” your girlfriend begins, nodding her head toward you.

In a move that stuns you both, Jess stares Ellie right back, cutting her words off. “I’m Jess. And she already introduced herself.”

It almost amuses you, the way Jess doesn’t shy under Ellie’s obvious glare and doesn’t bother picking up her hand to shake Ellie’s. Most people waltzing into a brand new haven wouldn’t exactly be keen on having such an attitude with the residents, but Jess was. The smug look on her face pisses you off just as much, glancing at the mouthy newcomer with furrowed eyebrows. She doesn’t pay any mind to it.

It takes a moment for those pretty green eyes next to you to look a little less eager to fight, leaning forward again and dropping her hand back to her side in defeat.

You let the small act go, eyeing Ellie once in a sign only you two understood. Her lips busy themself on the almost empty glass before her. “Nice to meet you, Jess.”

You can see Dina biting her lip, fighting back that laugh you are sure bubbles in her throat at the all-too-loud interaction next to them. Jesse pretends he didn’t see it, and you nearly thank the stars above when he speaks.

“Hey, let me order you guys drinks,” He offers as Will settles next to his friend.

Both nod, eager to get something other than water in their throats. You find yourself tuning out the conversation that follows, finishing off your drink with a few more gulps. Ellie beside you also falls silent, though that is a little more expected following what just happened. You trail along the various pictures and signs on the walls as you welcome the warmth in your belly brought on by the drinks.

You resort to nods and hums in response for the next while, only paying full attention when Jesse brings up Ellie’s name. “Most of us do patrols, I’m sure one of you will get put with Ellie or Dina on the first few, to show you the way.”

“Ah, you guys been on a lot?” Will questions, leaning in more to see all the different faces

Ellie nods, trying her best to be less bitter to Will, who hadn't done anything to create the redness on her face. “Yea, kinda all we do,” she answers with a slight shrug. A piece of her hair falls to her cheek and you bite back the urge to move forward and brush it away, twirling your finger around the strand like you would in private. Ellie was already embarrassed enough though, so your fingernails make patterns in the wood top of the bar instead.

Dina calls your name next, eyes falling onto you, “She works with the farm though, all the animals and crops.”

“Oh,” Jess budges in, tilting her head toward you. “Maria mentioned that being an option, do you like it?”

“Yea,” you shrug, finger following the rim of your now empty cup. “It’s fine, boring sometimes.”

The slightest bit of attention you had given the blonde had an immediate effect on Ellie next to you, who sighs loud enough for only you to hear. The next moment you feel a hand on your back, fingers dancing over where the shirt you wear meets your pants. They grip around your side like a child looking for attention, squeezing gently to tug your stool impossibly closer. Quickly you swat the hand away, denying eye contact with the girl beside you.

Ellie doesn’t take the defeat, placing the shooed-away hand on your thigh next, burning with what you can only assume is possessiveness. You can hear her gulp another drink down next to you in another plea for your attention. You let this hand stay, finding comfort in the small circles that Ellie’s thumb draws over your jeans, but refuse to meet her eyes. You can feel annoyance chipping away at your chest, its nasty claws digging over the softer wanted feeling that appeared from your girlfriend’s acts.

Jess seems to notice the show, glancing away for a moment to regain a sense of comfort as Ellie finally pulls away. Her elbows make their appearance on the bartop as she leans her chin into her palms. “Hm.. can’t be too boring with people you know around… I’ll have to tell Maria I’m interested.”

There’s a slight tilt to her voice, one you can’t decipher between friendliness and .. more. It sends your head spinning in confusion. She saw Ellie’s hand on you, heard Jesse clear his throat at the words, and still smiled gently at you. Dina interrupted quickly with some bullshit about stables— but it was already too late. The tension drips from the air and right into your empty cup, filling it with a stronger burn than alcohol.

The bluntest edge of Ellie’s nails digs into your pants, drawing a small noise from your mouth as your head snaps her way. Neither of you looks away for a long second, the game ending when her hand finally falls back to her lap.

Soon Ellie’s leaning in, trying you again as she becomes touchy. The usual unnerved energy that pulses in the girl when trying to give you affection in public is gone, lips pressing to your cheek and jaw in a showy way that brings Jess’s eyes on and off of you two. You can feel your cheeks redden at the act, biting back any urge to turn and slap her lips away. You hope ignoring it is enough of a sign, but Ellie only ends when she can see the flush on your face herself.

The next few minutes go too fast for you to make much sense of. Ellie has fallen completely silent, whether from anger or embarrassment, you aren’t sure. Jesse and Dina have started a much more lightweight conversation about Will and Jess’s travels here, which Will happily chats about over his drink.

There's a loud hum to the bar, mixing voices from all angles of the small building swirling in an annoying sort of way that have you tapping the empty cup. “Do you want another drink? I can order you one when I ask for my own,” a voice asks.

It’s not Ellie’s, instead, brown eyes meet your own. It was Jess, a small yet all too confident smile on her face as her fingers brush against yours that rest on the cup. It’s soft enough to be passed as friendly, as were all her words on the outside— but it doesn’t matter. You all knew.

Hell breaks loose the moment Ellie’s eyes see the touch. You can feel the flames licking your cheek as the much more familiar tone of Ellie filters into your ears. “Are you serious?”

“Ellie-“ you warn, ignoring the blonde’s words to find the flushed and freckled face of your girlfriend. Ellie is too far gone in her little ball of anger to listen.

“Are you stupid or really just that fucking ballsy?”

“Excuse me?” Jess blinks innocently, “Was just bein nice?”

The question sends the whole group silent, five sets of eyes falling on Ellie. A shocked sort of laugh bubbles from Jesse’s mouth, who is quickly elbowed by Dina. You take the comment as your cue to go, stumbling off your stool as you grip Ellie’s arm, forcing her off her own as she continues grumbling insults about Jess’s apparent flirting.

“She doesn’t even fucking like blondes by the way, she-” and then your hand is slapping over Ellie’s mouth before she can get loud enough for more patrons to hear, nails digging nastily into the fat of her cheek.

She pushes the handoff, grabbing your arm, “Mine, you got it? She’s mine. I'm the one taking her home to--” Ellie starts again, cut off by a yelp as you slap her arm hard enough to cause the quick death of that sentence.

“I'm gonna take her home,” you explain with an apologetic grin as you step. Then your face dims a little as you look at Jess, shooting her one of your confused glares before twisting away. With your arms wrapping around Ellie, you pull her through the crowd. Dina’s muffled voice saying something along the lines of, “Don't try it again,” is the last thing you hear.

Ellie continues to speak into your hand, mumbling nonsense of repeated, “mine,” “fucking fuck,” and other jealous blabbering as you step out into the now dark street.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

The walk home was eerily quiet, both of you having untangled yourselves from the position you pushed out of the Tipsy Bison in to instead walk alone. You mull over your next choices for the night as lightning bugs play their part in distracting Ellie. You can still feel the anger radiating off of her as she harshly slams the door of her garage home open, flooding you both with the dim lights that hang from her walls.

“You are so fucking lucky I didn’t do something in public,” a voice seethes, walking the opposite body back against the now-shut door.

But it’s not Ellie leading the movements, nor saying the words. She is the one backing against the shut door as your mouth falls open to continue the rant.

“Acting like that in front of everyone? Grabbing at me and talking like you own me?” You scoff, a familiar feeling inking into your skin as Ellie shys under you just slightly. The power trip was already building inside of you, making you feel ten feet taller as you stare at the girl under the golden lighting.

“That .. that fucking girl was flirting with you!” Ellie argues, arms crossing over her chest in a way that made your eyes fall on the deliciously flexed muscles there.

“And so you treat me like a piece of meat to stake your claim over?”

Ellie blinks a few times, shaking her head to try and answer your biting remark, “That isn’t-“

You step even closer, breath fanning against Ellie’s nose and lips as you speak. You like how the small act has Ellie shivering beside you, pretty soft skin gaining a pink tint. “You have no idea how badly I want to parade around what happens behind closed doors Ellie. Because god, do you like to act like you’re the one with any control.”

Ellie doesn’t dare reply as you continue speaking, instead trying to look anywhere but your face. “Palming at my thigh.. kissing me like you’re some needy bitch, declaring mine in front of our whole friend group? And then implying you were gonna take me home and fuck me? All because some girl couldn’t take a hint?”

Ellie, still against the door— shakes her head. You watch as her throat moves in a gulping motion. “She was all over you, you can’t be mad I got upset,” she says after a moment of building confidence, making a move you both knew would end badly by pushing through your body to pace around the small space. One of her hands comes to play with a finger on her opposite palm, comforting herself.

“I’m not mad at you for getting upset, Ellie. I’m mad you act like you have any ownership over me. I’m mad you had the nerve to say that shit knowing perfectly fucking well who does what when the door closes.”

Ellie won’t look at you, unsurprisingly so as she moves to a more bratty-sounding tone. “Oh, Jesus Christ how awful someone may think you bottom, babe. You’ll survive. Maybe you should try it.”

For a moment you say nothing, toeing the incredibly thin line the two of you are walking on. You know Ellie well enough to see through the game she’s beginning to play, searching for reassurance and attention with chipped remarks and arguments. You also know Ellie’s ego was sore from tonight’s events, creating an even brattier version of herself. The last comment is an open invitation to make her regret the words.. regret her touchy attitude tonight.

Of course, you take it. Of course, you bite on the bait Ellie had set before you with sharp teeth, licking your lips.

“And you’ll survive not touching me tonight,” you shrug, kicking off your shoes as you walk to the bed you spend nearly every night in. You plant yourself directly on the edge, following the sound of Ellie’s shoes dragging. There's a slight sweat building on the nape of your neck as you recount the events from earlier, perfectly clear images of your needy girlfriend coming to the forefront of your mind as you continue your half-hearted anger.

“What?” Ellie mutters, finally meeting your eyes.

“You did plenty of fucking touching with the show you put on tonight, think you met your limit,” you answer with a sigh, peeling the jeans from your legs in a slow movement, knowing it will catch the attention of green eyes. There is no ignoring the immediate hitch in her breath that follows. Ellie was easy to get worked up, no matter how much she would deny that if you ever told her so. You already knew tonight was going to be so much fun.

“C’mon that’s not fair,” Ellie mumbles, emphasizing each word in an attempt to stump any building whines.

“I'm tired Ellie,” you answer with a small fake-sounding yawn. “I don't want to argue, come lay down,” you pat the spot next to you on the bed, innocently enough that Ellie actually trudges over and sits next to you.

“I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have. Imagine a girl flirting with me, how would you react?” Ellie muttered, knowing full well she would not get an answer she liked.

“Not act like a jealous bitch in front of everyone, woulda just left,” you criticize softly, though there isn’t too much bite, you both know you were just as jealous as her. “Would’ve taken you home..” you sigh, fingers finding the buttons of her shirt, “remind you who you belong to..”

Your hands move to her front, unbuttoning the flannel that she wears, pulling a shiver from her after your words. It's a simple act you two had fallen into the routine of ages ago. Undressing each other before bed, grabbing pajamas, pressing kisses to sore spots after a day of work, massaging muscles. A small sign of affection that was often done over comforting silence. Today’s silence however was a little more charged.

Of course, you had already pulled your pants off in a sign to Ellie that you were not joking about the no-touching statement, not allowing her any whisper of her fingers against your own. The flannel pools down her arms, letting you toss it into the small hamper near the window. The outside air commands it warm enough to also tug Ellie’s undershirt off, and she hums in approval when your fingers linger on the bare skin over her ribs, leaving only the fitted sports bra left. Next is her jeans, purposefully pressing your hands a little harshly into her hips, hoping to catch a small hint of Ellie squirming from it. She does, of course. The motion presses a heat in between your thighs, one that had been growing since Ellie and you had gotten home.

“Go grab stuff to sleep in?” You ask, though Ellie knows it isn’t a question. She stands, rummaging through the unorganized dresser near her bed to pull out a pair of sweatpants for herself and a larger shirt she wore often for you. Your shirt is quickly discarded, gaining the attention of Ellie’s wandering eyes as she holds the clothes close to her chest. The way she bites the inside of her cheek is enough of a sign that she’s frustrated you did it yourself, but no words follow the action.

El tosses you the shirt, one that smells like her in all the right ways as you tug it over your head, watching it bunch up at your hips. The second part of the plan building in your mind dictated no sleep shorts would follow, but Ellie seemed to not have grabbed you any pants, likely for her own pleasure of looking at your bare thighs. You press back into the bed, head finding the cold pillow at the tip of it as Ellie pulls on her sweatpants. The sight of her fingers curling around the fabric alone is enough to tighten your lower stomach again, slightly regretting your no-touching decision. Soon she follows your lead, climbing under the blankets to your left, small breaths of air leaving her lips as she looks over at you. “Can I at least lay against you?”

You shake your head in answer, watching Ellie shift uncomfortably next to you. “Baby-” she tries again, finding your eyes in the soft light. Your lips pull into a straight line with another sign of no, leading to groans from your girlfriend as a flash of auburn hair pushed back into the pillow dramatically.

The room falls into quiet again, the only noise that of shuffling sheets and the crickets that lay in the growing grass outside. When Ellie’s breath calms into a more tired sounding pull, you glance up to the ceiling. You let your mind fall into the building plan laid out in the dark ceiling above you. Your eyes press closed, cloudy paintings of Ellie leaning against you, Ellie grabbing at your thigh in the bar, kissing you, her angry little breaths that built as Jess spoke more— they all flood into your mind. You could act mad all you want, and maybe you were a bit angry at how Ellie liked to put out this image of her holding the power, but really the jealousy had you feeling warm all over.

Your palm presses against your chest, the pads of your fingers denting into the cotton of the shirt you wore, dragging down in a way that had you squirm just slightly. You would much rather it was Ellie’s hand that found your panties next, looking up at you from her knees as she waited for the next command. But it wasn’t, and you were much too stubborn.

Your fingers dipped under the elastic of the lace, shimmying them down slightly. Ellie stirred just a bit beside you but didn’t seem to notice what was happening yet. “Are we really just gonna lay here in silence?” she asks. Too focused on the pad of your fingers running along the slightly wet slit, all you do is hum in response. The wetness that dashes your finger is used as a helper as you rub circles on your clit.

The almost silent response seems to finally draw Ellie’s eyes to you, though the only light of the strings near her wall leaves little to be seen. What Ellie does notice, dim lights or not, is your eyes squeezing close. She noticed the motion of your arm, following it down to where your fingers are moving between your thighs. It sends her sitting straight up, which you can feel in the dip of the old mattress.

“What are you doing?” Ellie begins, cut off but the shush that you respond with. “Makin’ myself feel good,” you grumbled, as if it was annoying you that she watched. In reality, it just made the tightness in your stomach further, a tightly knotted rope that tugged in all the right ways when you felt green eyes searching over your body.

Ellie doesn’t answer for a few more moments, transfixed by the motion of your fingers, unable to put an end to the whine that finally sounds, reaching your ear right as you press a particularly hard swirl to your bud. “Let me,” Ellie croaks, moving to settle toward the end of the bed. From this angle you are sure she can see everything, even more so when you press your thighs open more, your glistening center on full display for your squirming girlfriend. The plan was working just as you assumed it would, her bratty mouth quieted by the sight.

“No,” you deny her, a small gasp following the words as you look at her. The sight is enough to bring another pool of wetness to your slit, which your fingers dip down into, pushing one digit into yourself. Ellie whines even louder than you at the sight, “Please, I’ll be good,” she tried again, a sweeter twinge to her voice that you knew was all an act. One you wouldn’t buy into despite how you imagined it was her fingers as you added another.

Your mind struggles to find the right words, but Ellie waits patiently. “Good?” you criticized, “Were you good when you acted like a brat out tonight? Were you good when you argued with me?”

The words are as stern as you can make them, urging your gaze to stay on her instead of falling back against the pillow. “Told you no touching, that’s the end of it,” you mumble. The wet noises of your fingers moving in and out of your center have Ellie salivating, licking her lips quickly as she eyes you. You can see the way her pupils dilate, you watch as her body goes a little less stiff. The earlier anger and insecurity that has been building against her freckled cheeks and sore muscles dissolving just like you wanted them to. You needed her to forget about the annoying girl earlier, and focus instead on you. on you two. You needed to carve away the brattiness in the only way you knew how making her beg for you.

You let a few moans pass your lips, hips bucking gently. You can feel the fire building in your core, knowing soon you will reach your peak.

“Please, I'm- sorry, I'm sorry baby please let me touch you. need to touch you,” Ellie rattled on.

You let her continue for a moment, her babbles filling the now thick air of her garage, pounding against your mind as it slipped away. When you finally feel yourself reaching the wave of pleasure in your lower belly, you stop, effectively edging yourself away from an orgasm.

“You wanna help me feel good?” You question, fighting the urge to squeeze your thighs closed to ease the ache as you stare at Ellie. She nods quickly, strands of hair following messily in the movement’s wake. “Still don’t-“ you breathe out, “Still can't touch me, but you can use your mouth. Hands to yourself baby,” you begin, but before you can even finish the sentence Ellie is laying between your thighs, hands balled together against the blanket, her hot mouth pressing into you before you can even process the action.

It draws a surprised noise from you, your head pressing back against the pillowcase, teeth digging into your bottom lip. Ellie listened, of course, she did, her hands staying put against the fabric of the sheets. Her mouth dug into your pussy like she was starving, nose bumping into your clit messily, licking up all of the slick that had drooled from you from your own fingers, now gushing out more and more regularly from her ministrations.

“Fuck,” you moan, flushing as your lip quivers. “You were fucking born for this Ellie, such a good mouth, so much— much better using it to do this than bein’ a brat,” you spit, fingers finding the short strands of her hair, pressing her face even closer into your folds as you searched for your release. Ellie whined against you, and you watched as her knuckles flexed, obviously fighting against grabbing at the flesh of your thighs.

“Put them.. put them behind your back,” you grit through your teeth, allowing no wavering to your words. Ellie knew what you meant immediately, green eyes looking up at you as she did as she was told, wrists grasping each other behind her back.

It’s a little mean, the way she has to shimmy around with no arms. The way you can see her blunt nails fig unto her skin to keep it from trying to find your skin like her body was begging to have you. Your own body was gasping for something similar, over-sensitive from your previous work on your clit.

“Such a good girl, Els” you breathe out, hips bucking into her face. “Gonna come, you’re taking it so well, pup.”

The pet name seems to render her almost useless, freezing up against you as you grind down into her mouth. She comes back a moment later, tripling her efforts as her lips come to wrap around your clit, sucking harshly.

You let a loud, messy sounding moan out, not caring who may hear outside. Not caring if it gave away too much of how you felt. With a girl as pretty as Ellie between your thighs, who would care?

She doesn’t allow herself more than a few panicked breaths, solely focused on making more noises empty your lips. She suckles against you particularly hard after you shift, and that’s the feeling that sends you toppling over the edge. A choked noise rips past your mouth before you can stop it, slick spilling all over Ellie as she desperately tries to collect it all. Your still moving hips leave that difficult, getting her lips and cheeks glossy as well. Your nails don't leave her scalp, scratching gently in a repeated motion. It has her pulling back from your core, blinking slowly, dazed as she stares at you.

“You’re being so good for me, baby,” you gush, riding out the leftover feelings from your orgasm. Your wall is breaking, craving your pretty girlfriend’s hands on you too much to keep up with the punishment for much longer. “Could never want anyone but you, y’know that right?” You huff, hand grasping her hair in a sign for her to lift up. She does so easily, hands on either side of the bed as she hovers above you, her lips ghosting over your own.

“No one could compare to my needy girl,” you coo, brushing your lips against hers. The words drive home a point you hadn’t yet made clear. Jess had no chance, no one did. No one could ever be Ellie. Your Ellie.

There’s nothing else around you now. No light, no sounds. The world is silent and dark, Ellie being the only source of light in your eyesight, in your ears, and your mind. Nothing deviated away from her as her lip trembled. The look of her has you quickly flipping your positions, settling nicely straddling over her, and finally blessing her with your hands against her as you lean over her. Your fingers find her jaw, pressing her mouth open in a soft motion. She wastes no time parting her lips further, tongue lolling out for you like she knew what was coming. When a string of spit falls from your lips and onto her waiting tongue, she accepts it gladly. “so good,” you uttered, shivering as she swallows.

“What do you want, baby?” You ask next, deeming she has listened nice enough to be rewarded.

“Let me kiss you,” Ellie whispers, sniffling gently as she adds a soft, “please.” You grant her wish, leaning to press a kiss to her waiting lips, the sound of approval she gives reverberating against your connected mouths.

“Such a perfect girl,” you blabber, stomach swirling as you watch her slip into that delicious space you always brought her to, whiney and wordless— looking at you like you were the only person in the whole damn world. Your words die off with another kiss, hand finding her boxers, dipping into the fabric. It greets you with a large wet spot, the dripping core of your girlfriend the obvious culprit. Ellie whimpers against your lips, and you swallow it like it's the most delicious thing you’ve ever been given, kissing her harshly, biting at the bottom lip.

When one finger sinks easily into her folds, you hum against her, lips dragging to her ear to mumble against it. “This is what you wanted the whole time, hm?” You ask, another finger dipping into the mix as you feel her walls grip around you. Like it was made for you. “Wanted me to get mad at you for acting like a needy whore.. wanted me to take you home and fuck you, let you know you’re the only one I want?” You accuse, nipping at her ear lobe as your digits curl, pulling another whine from your girlfriend.

The words are as true as they can be, and Ellie knows that. She acknowledges this with a nod of her head, and you don’t push much further. “Fit perfectly around my fingers, pup. Fuckin made for me,” your voice calls against her neck as you bite into the skin, a yelp from above you following it. She grinds into your fingers, and you allow it, following the rolls of her hips as you hit that spot that left her gasping.

“No one could ever get me like this, even as bratty as you are,” you promise, twisting your hand in a way that has her thighs moving without much permission from her mind, thrusting up into you. “Want you to soak my fingers, baby,” you nip at the nape of her neck, hot breath wetting the skin as you pull back. The quickening pace of your fingers has her delirious, mouth dropping open to pant.

You swear it may be the prettiest sight, and you pull back to get a full view. Your hair falls from its place, sticking to your sticky forehead, eyes focused sharply on Ellie as her cheeks became a deep cherry red, freckles disappearing into the red flesh. You want to reach forward, want to feel her gasp against your lips as you continue to hit her sweet spot over and over, but the way she pushes out sweet little moans is a much more gorgeous sight.

“What would our friends think?” You ask lowly, pressing into her harshly. “If they knew you were the whining whore under me hm?” Ellie cries out in response, shaking her head gently.

“Think it’d be funny. Them knowing that tough little Ellie is really just a bratty little bitch,” you croon, tone sickly sweet.

“Baby,” she cries, nose wrinkling as she pulls her eyes shut, “Please let me come, ‘m so close.”

The air around you is sticky, collecting on the skin of your arms and back as your wrist burns, quickening your movements with twists and scissoring movements. Ellie becomes too loud for her own good, teeth sinking into her lip to quiet it at least a little before she wakes the animals or people outside of these walls. Part of you wants them to hear, wants them to find the little pathetic sounding noises that pour from Ellie. Want someone to know it you who gets Ellie like this. Gets her squirming against you, begging for, “more,” and “harder.”

Who were you to deny such a handsome girl after all? With another thrust of your fingers, you feel her clench around you, her chest pausing as the feeling overwhelms her. The wetness spills over your fingers soon thereafter, leaving them even slicker as you continue. You were far from done with Ellie.

Ellie lifts her head, staring down at your fingers that disappear in and out of her clenching pussy, “please, no more.”

“You were actin needy all night,” you push, words partnered with another thrust into the wet center. The sound it makes is filthy, a devilish grin finding a place on your lips. “So you can take as much as I want to give you.”

The may night covers around any sounds that spill from the small garage, walls acting as protectors for what really happens behind them.

perm taglist: @rxllingstones @hrtsellie @elliewlums @callmekittenandyourmajesty @gr1mreaperbarbie @imyour-favouritegirl @haiixo @dankpunks @machetegirl109

tags for this fic: @anchoeritic @dyk3ification @prrimordiais @totheblood @shesluxurious @jakesullyslongshlong

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #sub ellie 🔛🔝

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

Text

The Orange.

You and Jake share an orange. He’s in love with you.

Part 2 - For Eternity.

Pairing - Jake Seresin x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 2047

Masterlist. Requests.

The air conditioning rattles gently, keeping you company. You’re sat at the bar of The Hard Deck, reading the book that’s been sitting forgotten on your nightstand for months. Outside, you can hear the cheering and yelling coming from the Dagger Squad, who are playing their new favourite game – Dog Fight Football. Ever since Maverick introduced it, they’ve been hooked, finding any reason to gather at the beach and take each other down.

You man the bar while Penny sits on the beach, watching her partner and his team sprint across the sand. Inevitably, soon they’ll all come running inside, requesting water, beer, and popsicles to cool their heated skin and flushed faces. You prefer to shelter yourself away from the sun during the day, and make the most of the warm summer nights that seem to last forever. You’re already mentally planning your evening – you’ll finish your shift, grab a drink, and walk down the beach, perhaps taking your book with you. You’ll sit on the cooling sand, rest your legs, and stay there until the ocean breeze gives you your cue to leave. You’ll offer Jake to join you, and he’ll make a big show of being sarcastically reluctant – but he’ll never say no to you. Those sunset conversations have become the best part of your days – and his.

Your friendship with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin is a seemingly unlikely one. Arrogant, charming, decorated Naval Aviator meets intelligent, determined, stubborn waitress. When the Dagger Squad arrived in town for the uranium mission, Penny had given you a sarcastic, but slightly genuine warning.

“You better watch out, you know”, she says in passing one night. You quirk your eyebrow at her questioningly.

“These pilots. They’re gonna be all over you. Fresh new eye candy for them to fight over.” She winks at you cheekily and leaves you to serve another customer.

You knew it was always just convenience, for the Aviators. You were pretty, and witty, and served them their drinks every night. You were in their line of sight. They didn’t really want you, you were just available. Easy. Or so you thought.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin showed up that night with the confidence of ten men. The minute he laid eyes on you, you felt it. Some sort of shift. A crack in your universe.

He’d sidled up to the bar with a swagger in his walk that should have been off putting – but strangely wasn’t. The moment you heard that thick drawl flow like honey from his lips, you knew you’d have to use every ounce of self control you possessed. He was gorgeous.

And cocky.

The man had gotten accustomed to having women throw themselves at his feet. All he had to do was flash that gleaming smile, and he’d have girls dropping their barriers – and their underwear. He was a ladies man, and he knew it. You were aware he only ever spent a night with them – having had to rescue him from many awkward confrontations at the bar, usually along the lines of, “why didn’t you call me back?” and “you said you’d make breakfast!”.

You, however, became the exception to his rule. You didn’t expect anything from him, just his kindness, which he would happily give you by the tonne. Your kindness though, is what started your friendship in the first place. Or maybe it was stupidity. You were still deciding.

It was a Friday night at The Hard Deck. The Squad were over by the pool tables, drinking, and throwing darts. You’d been subtly watching Hangman from your position behind the bar. He was bragging to Coyote about being able to hit the bullseye with his eyes closed, and proceeded to demonstrate. He closed his eyes, hit the target, and reopened them to be met with an angry brunette with a point to prove.

“Excuse me, Hangman! You think you can just sneak out of my house, not call me, and then come in here and play darts like nothing happened?”

She jabs her finger angrily into his chest, but he doesn’t move. Stubborn man.

“Sweetheart,” he drawls, “let’s not do this here. I’m sorry I didn’t call. But I thought you knew; it was just a one time thing.”

He lays his charm on thick, and you see her falter for a minute. You’re almost willing her to give up, and save herself the inevitable embarrassment. But lo and behold, she continues.

She’s shouting now, yelling about his treatment of women, and how he should be ashamed, how he led her on with his false intentions. His squad are watching silently, attempting to stifle the laughter that threatens to bubble up between them. Javy has managed to take a few subtle steps back, as if to get as far away as possible from the danger zone.

She’s still yelling, and he’s just stood there, with that damned smirk on his face, taking it. You know whatever he’s going to say next is undoubtedly going to shred the poor girl’s self confidence, so, without much thought, you move from behind the bar, and make your way to the scene.

Placing your hand on his ridiculously toned bicep, you look up at him, praying that he’ll understand what you’re trying to silently say. You’re saving him.

“Babe, what’s going on?”, you ask cluelessly, as if you hadn’t been watching the entire situation unfold from mere feet away.

“Babe?”, she yells, more at the universe than at either of you.

Jake, for once, doesn’t quite know what to say. So, you continue.

“Yeah. I have no idea what’s happening, but I think we should talk.”

You look at him pointedly, and he seems to get the message. You apologise to the girl quickly, and drag Jake away, through the bar and out of the back door, into the cool evening air. You speak before he has the chance to.

“Please, Hangman. Keep your soap opera disaster of a love life out of my bar. No one wants to see it.”

It’s your turn now to jab your pointer finger into his chest. You expect him to snap back with a sarcastic remark, or to laugh. But he doesn’t. He just looks at you. Really looks. As if he’s seeing you for the first time, despite you serving him his beers every time he comes into the bar. Eventually, he speaks.

“You really are an angel, aren’t you?”

It’s your turn to look at him now. That wasn’t what you expected. You scoff, and raise your eyebrows at him.

“Seriously, Jake. It isn’t my business what you do with your spare time, but please, save us all from having to watch the car crash every week.”

He laughs. A real, genuine, hearty laugh, that settles itself into your ribs, into the cavity of your chest. You’ve never heard him laugh like that. It makes you like him more. Damn.

“I’m kinda done with it all anyway.”

“Done with what?”

“The sleeping around. One night stands. None of those girls are half as interesting or half as pretty as you.”

He’s looking at you again. You’re determined not to let him get under your skin, so you bark,

“Yeah, right. Bet you say that to all the girls, huh, Seresin?”

He laughs, and then pauses, million dollar smile still etched on his face.

“I’m serious. You won’t have to rescue me like that again, Angel. That’s a promise.”

He winks at you, and you swat his arm, before grabbing his hand and leading him back inside.

That was months ago.

Since then, you’ve spent an increasing amount of time with him. Laughing, joking, teasing. His friendship is more valuable than his weight in gold, you’re convinced, and you lower your guard ever so slightly. He’s worth letting in. You know he is. Warnings be damned.

You smell him before you see him when he enters the bar. He smells like cologne, salt, and sunshine – so distinct, so Jake. You’d bottle it up if you could, store a vial in every room in your house.

You feel him before you see him when he makes his way over to you. Feel his body get closer, the heat radiating off him. You can almost feel the salt on his skin when he plasters himself against your back, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

“Mmm, you smell good. What you reading, Angel?”

He’s moved to sit on the stool next to you. At this angle, you get a better look at him. He’s not wearing a shirt, golden skin on display. Begging for you to touch it, run your fingers along it, your tongue. You know he’d taste like the ocean and the sky simultaneously. Sunshine boy.

You pull yourself back to reality, and show him the cover of your book.

“Ah, smart girl.”

The praise lights up your bones, seems to settle into your ribs. You know, like all friendship does.

You look at him, and clock him watching you. He’s looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

Jake Seresin is in love with you.

You can see it clear as day, all of a sudden. Like you’ve been looking at him through a fog, a mist, and it’s evaporated without a warning.

He’s in love with you.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s kept his promise from that night. No more girls, no more one night stands. Since that evening, he’s only had one woman on his mind. You.

You’ve become suddenly aware of all of this, and you don’t know what to do with it. What about your friendship? What if this jeopardises everything? Losing him would be your worst nightmare. You’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

But then, you realise, that’s not going to happen. Because he’s in love with you. And like a freight train, it hits you. You’re in love with him. You have been since the moment he stepped foot in the bar, all self-assured attitude and golden hair and bright eyes. You’re in love with Jake Seresin and he’s in love with you and the world is suddenly making sense. The final piece of the jigsaw puzzle has been placed and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream or dance or all four or none at all.

So you stand, and make your way behind the bar. You slide a glass of ice cold water in front of him, and grab an orange. It’s ripe, bright and feels like a ball of light in your hand. A promise.

You sit back in your original position, on the stool next to his, but turn to face him. Carefully, you peel the orange, bit by bit. Juice runs down your fingers onto the palm of your hand, and without thinking, Jake grabs your wrist and traces the journey of the drop with his tongue. You look up through your lashes and smile at him gently, and continue to peel, slowly, deliberately. When you’re satisfied, you split the orange, and hand one half to him.

The air conditioning rattles gently, keeping you company. You eat in silence, stopping occasionally to inhale the smell of citrus, salt, and sunshine.

Jake reaches out as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and runs his thumb across your bottom lip carefully. He places his thumb in his mouth, and sucks gently.

You’re not sure if it’s you, or him, or gravity, but somehow, you’ve ended up sat with your legs in between his, facing each other. Orange finished, he leans in, and brushes your lips with his. He tastes like citrus, and salt, and sunshine. So distinctly Jake, that you’d bottle it if you could. He pulls back, resting his forehead on yours. There’s a warmth emanating from him that you’re sure isn’t solely from the sun. You haven’t been outside in hours, and you’re omitting it too.

It feels like hours that you sit there, foreheads pressed together, orange peel abandoned on the bar top. Neither of you needs to speak. You both know exactly what the other person is thinking.

Jake Seresin is in love with you. Nothing else matters.

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onyourowndaisymae · 1 year

Text

obey me dateables (+ luke) playing minecraft with you

this came to me last night like a prophecy from the god of silly geese

prompt: you've somehow convinced these guys to play minecraft, a human world game, one night, just the two of you. but how exactly does that experience go?

[brothers version]

{established relationship, obey me x reader (minus luke, who is platonic ofc)}

Diavolo

oh you-- oh you thought the future king of the devildom was going to be a fearsome warrior slashing down hordes of monsters coming to attack the two of you? or a masterful builder constructing a wonderous homestead for you two to retreat to at night?

nah, this man is a certified flower picker.

diavolo basically uses this as an excuse to play domestic family simulator with you. he's at his happiest when he's picking flowers and planting them around your shared house (you've got to share a house with this man or he'll give you the most pitiful expression) or decorating to any other extent, like carpets or paintings or lights. he just loves making your little home together!

he's also just as willing to do anything you request of him. you need him to mine for cobblestone? he's your guy! need someone to fish for you? right away, mc! you have to show him exactly how to complete said task, but once you do, he's happy to help.

definitely puts your beds together and gives you a dumb, happy grin. the characters are as close as the two of you now! speaking of which, do you have any plans? will you spend the night at the castle? he can push back his morning meeting tomorrow if you promise you'll stay.

he's just so happy to spend time with you. your shared little cottage and virtual world are just another artifact of your relationship. maybe some day the two of you can have a domestic setup like this in real life, too.

Barbatos

this man is good at everything he does. obviously, he's going to pick up the controls and mechanics surprisingly fast. you'd think he'd made the game himself with the ease he gets around.

your shared house is beautiful. he actually originally made two separate houses, one for each of you. but when you looked confused and told him you assumed you'd live together, he immediately gets to work on a bigger, prettier house for you to share. the only thing that gives him away is that pleased little twitch of the corner of his mouth as he resists a smile.

with as good as he is at the game, barbatos isn't super keen on what is actually "good" and what is just normal game stuff. he finds diamonds within 15 minutes of his first trip into a cave and, when you applaud his efforts, he turns to you and very plainly asks "is that... good?"

everything he finds goes in a communal chest at your shared home. you tell him he doesn't have to do that, but he insists-- it's in his nature. he doesn't tell you that every little comment you make when you spot new, valuable resources in the chest makes his chest warm. always happy to serve, this one.

monster killing machine. nothing will hurt you in this game. they can't even get close enough-- barbatos is always there, at your tail, protecting you from stray arrows or sneaky creepers trying to get you.

Simeon

oh, you're taking on the challenge of trying to teach him how to play a video game? good luck. kiss your sanity goodbye now.

he is terrible with the controls. simeon fares a little better with a controller because it's made for gaming only. god help you both if you're on a computer. wasd? never heard of her.

despite his piss poor technology skills, he's surprisingly pleased with the way this is all going. he feels a little bad that you have to babysit him in-game but appreciates your attention nonetheless. any mistake is met with a sweet laugh-- what a good sport.

he finds your patience endearing, and vows internally to get better at this game so that you'll want to play it more often. he's already plotting to rope solomon and luke into helping him improve.

and just like any good softie, he's terrible at in-game combat. he dies so many times. he doesn't really understand what's happening when he starts getting attacked. most of the time, the creature will hit him from behind, so he literally thinks he's dying for no reason. you have to explain to him that he's gotta-- simeon just turn around, you're-- dead. he's dead already.

his strengths in lie much more simple pursuits. give this man a farm to tend and he'll be perfectly content being a cute little malewife house husband. he secretly gathers the ingredients for a cake and surprises you with one after you return home from collecting wood to expand your house. he's beaming next to you in real life; who wouldn't kiss all over that cute face of his?

Solomon

speaking of old ass men-- this man is a menace in your minecraft world.

he gets the controls pretty quickly. pros: you don't have to spend much time teaching him how to play. cons: he is confident enough in his survival abilities to just... disappear. what's that mc? you wanted to build a house together? too late. he's fighting against three endermen deep in a mine an entire biome away.

you're going to have to do a lot of the communal work yourself. build the house, gather resources, find a reliable source of food and materials-- solomon will stroll right in and steal them from your chest. if he's feeling generous, he'll leave behind the rare resources he got his hands on during his journeys. which is nice, of course, but he still stole three whole stacks of wood planks like a jackass and took off before you noticed.

you end up making it to the nether together. he says he'll protect you, and for the most part that is true. however, sometimes he's preoccupied and you get attacked while he's not looking. if you die, he'll laugh at you (yet still save your stuff and give it back when you return). if you survive, then it's onwards into the depths of hell!

when he gets bored, he starts terrorizing you. this is as basic as moving things around the house to as obnoxious as blocking you in with dirt or wood and covering you up as you try to escape. he thinks this is hilarious, by the way. but he knows you, and his antics cease before you actually get pissed off.

Luke

luke tries very, very hard to be good at this game. he gets a A for effort... and a C- for skill.

somehow, someway, he falls into every. hole. imaginable. you'd almost think they're spawning in front of him with how frequently this happens. you're playing rescue now... and again... and again... and he did it once again. he also gets lost very easily, so it's best to keep him with you at all times.

you guys decide to share a little house together and it's very cute. you've got your own separate rooms, then a kitchen and living room to share. he is very insistent that it has to look like a real house, with a real kitchen and everything. humor him and help him out-- he'll reward you by always making sure you have food.

every activity in this game is now a group activity. safety in numbers, he says, in the middle of the day with no monsters in sight. it doesn't really matter anyways. he'll follow you wherever you go. he'll even enter that super scary cave you're in so he doesn't have to face the monsters alone.

luke is very scared of being attacked by any mob in the game. he's specifically built his room on the second floor of your house so they can't get him. if he is somehow face to face with a monster, then he's yelling, incoherent as all hell, panic-building a dirt protection chamber around himself (he won't actually kill them because he feels too bad). if you're within reach, then he'll cover you too. if not, good luck with that monster! he will root for you, obviously, but you're delusional if you think he's going out there to help you.

#i would do anything for simeon to be my house husband #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me dateables #obey me luke #minecraft

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miraclewoozi · 8 months

Text

BURNIN' UP. - h.js

you really were just trying to enjoy a cool treat by the pool on a hot summer’s day. honest.

pairing : joshua x fem reader. content : plotless smut. MINORS DNI. (smut tags utc) wc : 3.1k notes : not proofread. intentional lowercase. hoping this gets rid of the insane josh!rot i've had the past few weeks. i'm very sorry. (i'm not that sorry)

nsfw tags : swearing. making out, manhandling, choking, oral sex (m rec), face-fucking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, big cock!josh. he has a bit of a gagging kink. cum swallowing. meanie dom joshua. degradation (use of the word slut), exhibitionism/semi-public sexual acts in that they could have been walked in on at any time (but they weren’t). PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes 2.0 : this is for my sensitive gag reflex gang. i see you. i hear you. i am one of you. i would still let joshua hong violate my throat, anyway. 🫶

he’s such a gentleman.

each time you’ve introduced joshua to one of your friends, they’ve all said the same thing. he’s so nice. he’s so sweet. he’s so caring. so dreamy… a real gentleman — you don’t find many people like him, anymore. and each time, you’ve rolled your eyes. each time, you’ve dry-heaved for dramatic effect, pulled a face, waved them off, told them to shut up. because yeah, whatever, you know he’s a nice guy. you know he always pulls your chair out for you and walks you home when it’s getting dark. you know he’s the first to offer his coat, the first to ask if he can get you a drink.

seeing them all get hearts in their eyes over him makes you feel kind of squicky, though. because you’ve never, not a day in your life, looked at him the way your friends all seem to.

at least… not until today.

not until he tugged his hawaiian shirt off his shoulders and dove gracefully into seungkwan’s swimming pool. not until he surfaced, grinning brightly, pushing his hair back off his forehead. not until the swell of his shoulders glistened in the summer sunlight, broad and tanned and decorated with droplets of water from tip to tip. not until he locked eyes with you as he waded through the pool with hansol on his back, engaging in something of a jousting contest against mingyu and chan. (not until they won said joust and joshua threw hansol off him to celebrate their victory, and it looked like he was shrugging off little more than a bag of sugar.)

not until now, as he rests his forearms on the side of the pool and calls your name. as if he needs to do anything to get your attention from where you’re laid out on the sun lounger. as if he hasn’t had it for hours.

“are you getting in?” he asks, raking those thick fingers through his dripping hair again, slicking a few stray strands back.

now, submerging yourself in the water sounds unbelievably tempting — it’s such a hot day and your skin is slick with sweat even as you relax in the shade. but there’s a lot of splashing going on in there right now and you could really do without a six foot two man-puppy trying to use you as a human shield, so…

“nah, not right now,” you say, shaking your head.

that brilliant grin is replaced by a playful looking pout. still, he’s all honey-voiced when he asks, “later, then?”

“sure, yeah. maybe later.”

“i’ll hold you to that,” he says, cupping water in his hands and squeezing them so that it shoots straight at you. a squeak escapes your lips at the chill when it hits your bare legs; joshua kicks away from the wall of the pool chuckling to himself and swims back over to where his friends are still playing around without him, leaving you to stare slack-jawed at his toned back as he retreats.

half an hour later, you’ve moved to sit at the edge of the pool and you’re kicking your feet slowly through the water. an intense game of marco polo is well and truly underway when seungkwan appears at one shoulder, offering you a popsicle; you take it gratefully, unwrapping the treat and having a taste, sighing blissfully at the frozen cola flavour that melts onto your tongue.

the host sits down beside you for a little while and you talk comfortably while the fun and games continue. he stays for a while, laughing and joking and catching up with you, before he disappears back into the shade and leaves you to your own devices.

and at some point during all this, joshua takes notice of you. he sees the way your lips close around the ice pop. he sees the way your eyes flutter closed at how sweet and refreshing it tastes. he sees how your cheeks hollow out around it, how your tongue sweeps over the tip, how you hold it so gently between your teeth and giggle at what seungkwan’s saying to you, how you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to clear the stickiness…

so when you glance over to him, after saying goodbye to the host, joshua’s eyes are already on you; his jaw is tense and his eyes are dark as he stares from the opposite side of the pool. chan is slowly edging towards him but he doesn’t seem to care all that much. all it appears he can do is look at you and watch as your throat bobs with each swallow you take.

so, in the spirit of giving him a good show, you suckle a little more of the popsicle into your mouth with your gazes locked firmly together. and a little more, and a little more. just a few moments later with his lips locked into a tight line and a bead of sweat on his forehead, joshua silently lifts himself out of the water, beckoning you with one tweak of his fingers to tell you to follow.

you lift your feet up out of the water and pat your legs dry with the towel you’ve been sat on, heading inside while trying very hard not to think about the fact that the man you’re about to run into is the sole cause of the ache between your thighs.

you toss the stick to your popsicle in the trash on your way through and no sooner have you crossed the threshold into the hallway, one of joshua’s devastatingly large hands finds place on the small of your back. with hardly any pressure at all, the contact stops you in your tracks and you find yourself turning to face him.

“that was quite the… performance,” he says quietly. if you strain, you can still hear the fun being had outside, but the quiet surrounding the two of you in the house makes it so that every syllable that comes from his perfectly shaped lips shoots straight through you.

“i don’t know what you mean.” you shrug, acting as unfazed by his fingertips grazing over your bare skin as you wish you could be.

joshua gives a soft chuckle by way of a response, his other hand lifting up to your cheek, thumb and forefinger toying with a couple of the baby hairs right in front of your ear. “you don’t?” he asks, and you shake your head at him, playing down the slight stutter in your breathing. he isn’t fooled. “i had no idea our little y/n was so brazen.”

“brazen,” you scoff, pressing one hand against his chest. he’s scorching hot (no doubt a symptom of having been in the sun all afternoon), but you double down anyway, curling your fingertips against his skin. “josh, i wasn’t even doing anything.”

“sure.” he pauses, moving to press his thumb to your bottom lip, feeling the slight chill on your skin from your treat before. “if sitting in full view of everyone and eye-fucking me with that popsicle halfway to your throat counts as ‘not doing anything’, i guess you’re totally innocent.”

this choice of phrasing from your supposed most gentlemanly friend reduces all of the thoughts between your ears to mere static. you can probably count on your fingers the number of times you’ve actually heard him curse, but you’d run out of cogitable numbers before adding up the number of occasions he’s told others to mind their language. shit, it’s so alien on him, but… it’s so hot. in his slightly lower register, quiet and hushed and only for you…

you’ll drench through your bikini bottoms any minute if you aren’t careful.

“totally,” you mumble, the word only half-audible beneath the pad of his thumb. with your eyes as wide and sweet as you can make them, you do what is about the only reasonable thing you can think to do (even though it’s not actually very reasonable, at all). you purse your lips slightly before parting them and sucking the tip of his thumb into your mouth. his jaw tightens, throat tensing as you swipe your tongue across his skin, but his own lips lift up into a twisted sort of smile after a moment anyway .

“all talk,” he breathes, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and gripping your jaw a little harshly. “all talk, no action.”

“is that right?”

“feel free to prove me wrong.”

joshua turns you both around so that he has you pressed against the wall behind you. with one forward push of his hips, you can feel his cock hard and prodding at your abdomen. a gasp escapes before you can do anything about it, and the metaphorical envelope bursts open. the line is crossed. there’s no turning back – and god, are you pleased about that.

the first move is completely on you. when you push up onto your toes and press your lips to his, it feels as though your whole body catches alight. you don’t waste time with pretty kisses, either – you go straight in, parting your lips, licking against his own. his tongue meets yours, his hands tighten around your waist – it’s messy, sloppy, feverish; you grow lightheaded and dizzy, but whether it’s because you don’t come up for a proper gulp of air for several minutes, or because the man whose arms you’re currently occupying is kissing the life, death, rebirth and repeat out of you… you’re not sure. regardless, you feel like you’re making out with him on the surface of the fucking sun.

his hand drops from your jaw to your throat and his fingers squeeze in just the right place to trigger another rush of heat between your legs. your pussy tightens around nothing and you get out a quiet whine, lips stilling completely; joshua pulls away from the messy kiss smirking at you, tightening his fist a little more.

“so you can take my tongue down your throat,” he says directly into your ear, his usually delicate voice hardly more than a low rumble. it sends shiver after shiver down your spine. “but is that all, pretty girl?”

you shake your head as much as his hand will allow and the pressure from his fist starts to push down against your collarbones, weighing you towards the floor. you obediently drop down to your knees, straightening your back until you’re eye level with his cock. all the while, your gaze stays upwards at his face, lashes fluttering when he eventually has to relinquish his hold on your throat.

“i’ve always thought you had the most beautiful eyes,” he sighs, cupping your chin before sliding his hand around to the back of your neck. his cock twitches against his swimming shorts as you shuffle on your knees to get a little closer to him. “never thought i’d see them like this, though.”

“never knew you wanted to,” you say, lifting your hands up to his sides. they find the waistband of his trunks and start to tug at them playfully but joshua swats them away.

“behind your back,” he tells you. he fucking tells you, and it flashes through your mind briefly to take the bait and snip back at him. you don’t take instructions. you don’t take commands. but there’s a very real fire in the way he’s staring down at you and lord, it’s so hot that you think it’s actually scalding you.

maybe you can bend your rules, just this once. just for him.

so you clasp your hands behind you and watch as he tugs his cock free from his shorts. when he holds it in his palm, strokes up and down the length a few times right in front of your eyes, you’re stuck trying to figure out if maybe his hands aren’t as big as you thought or if his dick is actually just huge. either way, you can’t stop staring at it; your lips fall apart and he chuckles down at you, swiping his thumb over the tip, smearing the bead of precum collecting there. he just about manages to suppress a shudder.

“open,” he says.

you don’t hesitate.

your lips part and almost straight away, he presses his tip into your mouth. the weight of him on your tongue makes your pussy flutter and you close your watering mouth around his shaft, massaging your tongue over every inch it can reach. one of joshua’s hands comes to rest on the wall above your head to keep him steady; the other returns to the back of your head, fingers pressing into your hair, tugging at the strands already.

the first thrust of his hips takes you entirely by surprise; he slides through your spit-slickened lips all too easily and he hits the back of your mouth much quicker than you’d expected him to. you feel your throat constricting in a gag, muscles squeezing around his tip, and joshua lets out a deep, animalistic grunt at the feeling that shoots all the way into his gut.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, eyes falling closed as he pulls at your hair hard enough to sting. “that felt so good.”

you take a couple of breaths and regrasp your hands behind you, preparing yourself for it to happen again. you know you can take him – you’re sure you can. he just caught you off guard.

but he presses forward for a second time, bumping that super sensitive spot in your mouth, and you gag around him again. and again, and again, and again. your throat takes a beating, but joshua is relentless and he doesn’t stop fucking into your mouth, swearing and moaning with each strangled sound that his cock successfully muffles from you.

“poor little slut,” he groans, teeth gritted in an attempt to keep as quiet as he can manage. he continues to use your mouth like a damn fleshlight and all the while, he keeps talking, curling his fingers into the wall for stabilisation. “can’t handle me, can you? bet you thought you’d be able to take it so easily. fuck, you keep gagging like that and i’ll come right down your throat.”

your eyes are wet and streaming from the corners when you pull off him to catch your breath, chest heaving deeply, forehead slick with sweat.

“so fucking big, josh,” you gasp, swallowing around nothing. your jaw aches already from the exertion but you miss having him in your mouth, even if he’s right. even if maybe it is too much. even if you can’t handle him without choking a little, without your eyes dribbling with tears. you don’t care. you want – no, you need to taste him again, you need to feel the sheer heft of his cock on your tongue.

“look so pretty when you cry over it,” he tells you, bending a little and grabbing your face with one hand, pinching your cheeks so your lips purse. “think you can take a little more?”

you nod even though you really aren’t sure, technically speaking, if you can. but your cheeks sting deliciously from the harsh press of his blunt nails and you’ve managed to suck a little bit of air back into your lungs, so you open your mouth again and joshua lets go of your face, letting you lave your tongue over his cock for a moment first before he rams straight back into your mouth.

you groan and whine and whimper as he continues his assault on your throat, trying to relax the muscles to make the slide a little easier but it never seems to let up. your clit is throbbing, neglected, sore, but pressing your thighs together only makes it worse, and though you’re sort of morbidly curious as to what joshua would do if you were to start touching yourself right now, you also think that he’s far more likely to help you out if you behave.

“gonna let me come in that beautiful mouth?” he asks, straining for every word, and just the thought of him shooting ropes of his climax straight into your throat has you about ready to collapse. you try to nod, but his eyes are clamped so tightly shut that he quite obviously doesn’t see you. as clearly as you can, you manage a quiet ‘mhm’, and the vibrations of your hum makes him swear. loudly.

“good little slut, – shit.” his hips start to stutter and you hollow out your cheeks, sucking at his cock for all you’re worth. “fuck, keep doing that. m’so close–”

the vein that runs down the underside of his length throbs against your tongue and you feel him release as he stills completely, grabbing the back of your head forcefully, holding you in place. all you can do is swallow around his shaft, let your throat massage all the cum out of him, whine and moan and let him empty himself until he can barely stand.

he taps the back of your head once he’s completely spent and you swallow one last time before gently pulling away from him, not standing to your feet yet but lifting one hand to rest it over his own. he squeezes your fingers, laughing drily and shaking his head before he gets a little bit of his strength back and tugs you up to your feet.

“i really didn’t know you had it in you, y/n,” he says, both his hands resting on your shoulders and gently massaging them. “are you okay? didn’t hurt too much?”

your throat is burning and all your muscles in your jaw feel like they’re going to seize up any minute, but you shake your head anyway. some pains are worth the gain.

“m’okay,” you assure him, pressing your back against the wall and sighing out at how cold the tile feels on your skin. “just… fuck.”

“yeah?” he asks, thumbs working magic on your skin.

you nod. “never been this turned on in my life,” you groan. “you’re hot when you’re an asshole.”

“feel free to get used to it,” he grins, slipping one hand down and pressing his fingers into your tit instead, the thin material of your swimsuit offering little barrier from the pleasure he’s already sending through you in shockwaves.

“yeah?”

“yeah. especially if you’re gonna act like that in front of everyone.”

you roll your eyes at him, sucking your front teeth but you can't quite stop the devilish grin that settles onto your face as he slips beneath the fabric of your top. “i don’t know what you mean,” you tease, echoing your own words from before. “i wasn’t even doing anything, josh.”

thank u sm for reading!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always so greatly appreciated.<3

#joshua hong smut #joshua smut #hong jisoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #hong jisoo x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*

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lieutenantfloyd · 1 year

Text

Ensemble Cast

pairing: Platonic! Task Force 141 (+ Alejandro & Rodolfo) x GN! Reader

words: 660

Summary: Hours into a stakeout, your boredom leads you to ask the everyone the classic hypothetical question, “If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

warnings: Lots of fluff and dialogue, found family trope, mentions of injuries, and an implication of angst.

a/n: MW2 is the ultimate found family story, change my mind.

Running your fingers along the edge of the map, your watch caught your eye. 5:14am, the bold digital numerals taunted. you pushed back from the table and made your way across the small room. You quickly scanned for an open spot to sit before finding one along the wall. Settling in with the group, you fought the urge to sigh. Stakeouts, while typically easy work, were never something you particularly enjoyed. A welcome break from the firefight you had been active in the past few weeks, yes, but nonetheless almost entirely boring.

You had been with them for what felt like forever and had long considered the group more like a band of brothers than a task force. Yet even the closest groups of people are bound to experience a lapse in conversation when stuck in a room together for hours on end. Unsurprisingly, a hush had fallen over most of the group more than a few hours ago. Like Ghost, you were more than comfortable with a bit of silence. But as the ninth hour of the stakeout came to a close, you couldn’t help but ignore your growing itch for conversation.

“If they were to make a movie about us, what actor would you want to play you?”

The question escaped you almost absentmindedly. The result of your brain slipping into semi-auto pilot. The words simultaneously cut Soap’s quiet one-sided ramblings short and introduced a bit of spirit and levity to everyone. You felt the room fall into a moment of quiet consideration, as the men began using the same war strategist intensity that was hard wired into their brains to figure out what Hollywood star they felt was most like themselves. Hypotheticals were a more than welcome break from going over the intel for the umpteenth time, or worse, being forced to listen to the vocalization of whatever popped into Soap’s mind.

With a groan, Captain price shifted his position in the stiff plastic chair he occupied. Trading his relaxed posture for sitting at attention in anticipation of everyone’s answer. A few moments passed before he spoke up. “Easy. Hugh Grant.” He started before taking a dramatic drag from his cigar. “A classic British gentleman after my own heart.”. Even through the darkness, you could see the playful glint in his eye. Price’s answer earned a range of amusement from the group and a full-bodied laugh from soap. “I’d want either James Mcavoy or… that guy from Game of Thrones.” Soap grinned. “Jon Snow!” Gaz snorted. “For me..” He started ”I know he’s not an actor, but I’ve been mistaken for Lewis Hamilton once or twice before, so probably him. What about you, Alejandro?” “I’d play myself. Why hire an actor when you can have the real thing?” Alejandro chimed in. “¿Y usted?” Alejandro said, elbowing Rodolfo. “No estoy seguro… ¿Maybe Mario Lopez?” “¡Vaya! Looks like Rudy’s feeling confident!” Alejandro chuckled, earning a smile and a slightly bashful look from Rudy. “What about you, LT?” Simon simply shrugged. Clearly not impressed by the current conversation. “Well. we could always dress up one of those twelve foot skeleton decorations and have you do the voiceover.” Soap snickered.

A moment passed before everyone, Simon included, burst into laughter.

Seeing everyone fall apart to such a dumb joke left you giggling right along with them, almost unable to contain yourself.

For years you found it strange how much joy you felt in moments like this—sitting in a dark and musty shack, laughing and cracking jokes alongside your rag tag group of soldiers. Yet you couldn't ignore how these moments brought up a near forgotten sensation; a syrupy sweetness in your chest. A feeling synonymous with those of love and what it meant to finally belong somewhere. The feeling of finally finding a family. Because what is a family, if not a cast of characters - often beaten, more than a little broken, and almost always bloody - who still choose to form glimmers of light in a world of dark?

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hanafubukki · 5 months

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What if the Chairman was Levan Draconia?

I was talking with Ell (@memoryoflife) about the theories of Crowley being Levan Draconia and all the symbolisms you can find in NRC with their similarities in structure to Briar Valley and the Fortress looking the same as the coliseum.

Then we starting talking about how this is Yana we are talking about. Would she make it so obvious that Crowley is Leavan? What if she was using Dire Crowley as a distraction. The truth subtly hidden among the clues? Thank you @prince-kallisto (our Crowley Connoisseur) for helping me find the scene where the chairman is mentioned.

So that got me thinking more, wasn't there a moment in which Crowley mentions a superior? And he very nonchalantly mentioned the Chairman as well, but why? Knowing how any little detail in this game can be a clue to the future books/revelations (History lessons, events, etc.), I can't help but wonder if this was one as well.

Because why suddenly mention the chairman, why not just introduce himself? So what if Levan was the chairman? Most, if not all, of the clues pointing towards Crowley being Levan can be used on the Chairman as well.

Now what do we know about Levan Draconia? He is the Left General, Meleanor's husband, he saved Lilia's NRC letter, he went missing on a diplomatic mission, and he wanted to strengthen relations between the humans and fae.

Additionally, he taught the fae the human language so they can communicate better. He seems the more level headed and future thinking of the three childhood friends. Thank you Mumble for going over Levan info with me (@irafuwas).

Knowing this, it would make sense if the Chairman was Levan Draconia.

It would explain the similarities in the symbolisms/fashion with see with Briar Valley, what if it was the Chairman who decorated/influenced it?

As Ell pointed out, it would be a strategic way to have Crowley to continue being in the game and have merch as well, especially if he was a pawn from the beginning.

This would also explain why Crowley is constantly looking for the Blot stones, and why in every book, he has someway/somehow influenced the OBs.

Because someone was telling him behind the scenes what to do and what to look out for, and with Levan's future thinking, this would fit.

This would also explain why Lilia does not recognize Crowley if Crowley was Levan because he isn’t.

(unless they are fraternal twins, that's why they dont look alike. It would explain the whole "why is he here?' line in history lessons too)

When I think about this, it makes me wonder even more. You know? Why such a offhand comment, unless there's a story element for it?

Levan being a Chairman would also explain him teaching the fae the human language because of his future-esque thinking.

Why he also saved Lilia's NRC letter because he knew what will happen in the future and who will play such roles.

Now this brings into question about Levan's Unique magic, what if his was opposite's of Lilia's?

Lilia's UM looks into the past/memories, so what if Levan's looks into the future? This is why he cared about the relationship between human and faes, why he saved the letter, etc.?

But then you can't help but wonder, where does Meleanor play a role in this? Did she know? What is her UM?

Did she sacrifice herself knowing this future? And that's why she was so confident about Lilia and Malleus?

Was she somehow saved?

And then we think about Levan, and if he is alive and knew the events, did he really let his wife die?

Let his friend live with the trauma of his disappearance, also take the risk of his child never being born and growing up so restricted?

Was this why Meleanor gave the "blessing' she did to Malleus?

(What if they knew about the events with Grim, was this their way of making Grim into a chimera? or maybe, just maybe, stop Grim?

because they saw all the people that Malleus and Lilia loved, and they wanted to save them?)

Wether Levan is alive or dead, the results will be devastating when we find out what happened to him.

#Hana queues #twst theory #twst theories #dire crowley #levan draconia #revan draconia #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #meleanor draconia #twst analysis #diasomnia #twst book 7 #twst dire crowley #twst levan draconia #🌺mumble🌺#🌺ell🌺#🌺kallisto🌺

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losersiren · 4 days

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Yandere! Vault Dweller

N: I just finished the Fallout show, went on YouTube and fell down a rabbit hole of lore about the game. I decided Vault 11 shall be sacrificed (hehe). Everything I put in this fic is from the videos I've watched and the fan wiki, so it's like semi-accurate… Cw: talks about suicide, suicide (not the reader), violence, yandere tendencies, gore(?), death, manipulation, coercion, talks of death, should be gn! reader safe.... if not, put me in the chamber WC: 2.2k

Quiet. It was quiet. The silence is deafening, yet the ringing in your ear grows louder and louder, each second feeling as if eons had passed. The automated computer voice repeats in your head like a catchy song you’ll hear on those dusty records, the ones Mama used to play and dance to.

“Congratulations, citizens of Vault 11! You have made the decision not to sacrifice one of your own. You can walk with your head held high, knowing that your commitment to human life is a shining example to us all. And to make that feeling of pride even sweeter, I have some exciting news. Despite what you were led to believe, the population of Vault 11 is not going to be exterminated for its disobedience. Instead, the mechanism to open the main vault door has now been enabled, and you can come and go at your leisure. But not so fast! Be sure to check with your overseer to find out if it's safe to leave. Here at Vault-Tec, your safety is our number one priority.”

You were young when your parents escaped the bombs to the vault you're situated in right now; you grew up believing that damned computer about sacrifices and watched your fellow vault mates get killed one by one. You waited for the time it would be you in that same chamber. Now, with this information surfaced…they died for what? An experiment? What would have happened if you had been voted overseer…

The lump in your throat grows heavier, and the arguments and yelling in the background become more and more apparent that you can't ignore them anymore. Your eyes drift to the man standing tall and proud beside you, Charli, his hair still somehow slick back; he still looks perfect even after the maddening chaos of events that transpired these past few days. His blue jumpsuit was as crisp as an ironed suit that the actors would wear from the moving pictures on television before the vault. His expression is as vacant as his blue eyes, his soft lips decorated with a barely visible smile. As he watches the other three vault survivors argue, Your brows furrow.

Why isn’t he affected by the news like everyone else? This information is soul-crushing and life-changing!

Then again, you reason with yourself that maybe this is his way of coping; who are you to judge and microanalysis him like some psycho? Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep or the sense of safety ripped out of your hand like candy stolen from a baby. Heavens, you might nearly flip your lid entirely if something else happens. You sigh. To believe you almost were insinuating that Charli would even be a drop suspicious, and of what, exactly? He saved and shielded you from the massacre that only left the five of you remaining; he was your childhood best friend..how could you? You reprimand yourself.

His eyes finally meet yours, and the sympathy and worry you sought appeared when the blonde saw how distressed you were. “Are you alright?” his soft voice fills your head–drowning out the talks of whether the group should commit suicide in honour of your dead vault men or venture into the outside world to educate others on how your vault was misled. You were somewhat dissociated from the whole conversation. Reasonably so.

His hands, soft yet calloused, turn your head side to side to check for any visible injuries he might’ve missed, which he shouldn’t have—knitted eyebrows and razor-sharp eyes search frantically for anything.

Charles or… As you’ll call him later in your relationship, Charlie, has always been like this. When you met him, he was a reserved kid, a trait that would carry on from his pubescent to adolescent years.

When other kids grew out of their shyness and worrisome attitude and eventually adapted to the vault, he was pushed aside. Well, that wouldn’t be the only reason. His father was the first overseer of Vault 11, the same overseer who thought the best course of action was not to tell the vault residents about the sacrificial system they were now to live with. That same choice he made was the reason for his death, and he was the first to test the new system. He wasn’t a good man. He was greedy, a neglectful father and husband, and so on. A family now ruined by one man’s ill-considered decision; Charles's mom wasn’t much better, the textbook definition of a hypocrite. Bad-mouthing her dead husband, the same one she defended when said husband would push his son away.

Most would fear having no one at the end of the world, but it became Charles's life; while everyone adapted to vault life, Charles adapted to the misfortune of the consequences of his old man’s actions. You decided one day to talk to him while others stood clear. It was a simple conversation; others would just brush it off…which he did initially. But after that day, you would constantly seek him out, and with that, you wore a genuine smile and interest every time you talked to him. His walls crumbled into dust for you and only you. You were like a shooting star he wished for. His reputation grew because of you and, with that, his feelings for you sored. You became his way of life. In his teen years, he decided to become the best match for you– He would participate in every extracurricular activity the vault would provide to make him an unstoppable force of a man. The perfect golden boy was made..for you.

He had the “perfect body,” perfect sperm count, unmatched intelligence, and charisma—he perfected them (even if you were the only one he talked to for long periods)—strength, agility, endurance—all of it. He will be everything you need and more. With that, he made sure no one would vote you as overseer…

He was so soft on you that it would rival feathers. Do you need help lifting that? He's already there. Do you need help with your pre-war history? He’ll just sit you down and study with you for hours. Are you bleeding from an accidental cut? Don’t worry he just finished his first aid training. He already had a plan for you both for everything that would happen.

Everything

“I’m fine…” You grab both of his hands gently. “...Well, not fine, fine, but I'm not hurt.” You smile weakly up at him. “It’s okay. You and I will get through this,” He coos, pushing strands of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. His touch is warm and tender, yet the words you hear next aren’t.

“Fuck..I..I can’t do this I’m sorry.” A man, short in stature, starts backing away, gun in hand, clearly distressed. Your eyes move away from Charli’s to your fellow survivor; unknowingly to you, Charli rolls his eyes at the man's “dramatics.” “We don’t deserve to leave...That thing called us a shiny example..f..f.fucked! Thats fucked! I..I can’t live with that!” Another man says, “Anyone would’ve done what we did.” A woman comments, “You ask me? That's exactly the problem. Now, let’s get on with this.”

“Wait,” you say, stunned, as if he had predicted this would happen. Charles moves his hands to cover your eyes. The short man is first, putting his gun on the roof of his mouth and pulling the trigger, not sparing any more time; the woman is next, the second gunshot. Then, with a sigh and short prayer, the last man repeats the action done by the others. Each lifeless body hits the floor one by one, and then there is silence.

What the hell.

You try to understand the situation, but your brain has yet to catch up…it’s all too much. Charli whispers calming phrases while he shields your eyes with one hand and rubs patterns along your back with the other. Tears start rolling down your face…and you sob. Hard. His hand moves to pet your hair, soothing you while you let it all out of your system.

He moves his body to shield you from the gruesome events that have just taken place; he moves both of his hands and cradles your face. You try looking behind him out of curiosity, but he stops you before you can.”Hey! Look at me with those gorgeous eyes,” He mummers, and of course, you comply. “There we go. You listen to me so well,” he whispers lovingly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll both go back to my vault room. I have enough supplies for the both of us to survive outside for a while, okay?” He asks you, and you nod, agreeing to whatever he says.

“I need to hear you say it..”

“…yes, of course, whatever you think is best.” He smiles at you, thumb caressing your cheek. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He takes your hand and leads you through the halls. It's quiet… you don't like it. Your eyes are trained on his back, Charli…he’s your lifebuoy in the angry sea, the only thing keeping you afloat; if it wasn’t for him…you might’ve met your end with the others. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he squeezes your hand, comforting you��and you squeeze back. Your world just fell apart, yet…it doesn’t seem entirely gone with Charli by your side.

It's only a short time till you reach his vault. You’ve been here so many times it's basically your room by now. The tall blonde turns to look at you. “I’m going to let you go, just for a second, okay..? I just need to get the supplies.” He holds your one hand with both of his– you reply with a soft okay, and with your permission, he starts to move. He moves towards his small desk to grab a small, flat-headed screwdriver, walks to a particular spot, and pops the floor title beneath him, revealing a hidden compartment. It's filled with two modular military backpacks, filled to the bream with necessities for outside the vault.

He was prepared for all of this…

Then he starts talking about what he has in mind for the two of you, settling on the surface of living together and everything. Charles gets lost when talking to you; he can speak his mind about almost anything, and rambling is second nature with you. The hermit turned a social butterfly in your presence.

“You know that computer may have been our downfall, but god did bless me with more information than I could handle…good thing, huh, glad I went through all that code…Vault-tec tried to make it secure, but I found a way...We could go somewhere called New Vegas…” He keeps talking.

But you stand there, still, as a statue, looking down at him as he gathers everything…What did he just say?

You think back to the start when killing between the blocs started..he was right there, ready to protect you, when you and the other surviving tested out if the chamber would kill all of you…he almost seemed to be too assured nothing bad would happen to any of you, almost like…no…no. You’re overthinking, right? But the more you listen…

“You knew…” you shakingly exclaim out loud, cutting him off. “Hmm?” He looks up at you as he puts the tile back…” You knew we didn’t need sacrifices…you knew it would play out like this…” you say louder and more confidently. Those once-homey blue eyes become cold and distant… analyzing you.

You both stare at each other.

You turn and run.

But your efforts are in vain; you don’t even leave the room before two muscular arms wrap around behind you, overtaking you, holding your arms down around your waist, dragging you back. You scream and kick with no success. You end up with his arms around you while he sits down, his back against the wall, and you in front of him with his head in your neck while you let it all out. “When?” you croak out, “When we were fifteen, I didn’t want you to become overseer…I didn’t want you to die..so I wondered if it was the computer that sent signals to kill whoever was sent in that chamber and wondered if I could stop it from killing you specifically; that's when I found out .” He answers swiftly and truthfully, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” You question, “I didn’t care, honestly, the only thing that matters is you…If everyone died in the process, it would be less work for me…I wanted it to be us from the beginning, anyway. I want you to need me as much as I need you…and now you finally do.”

You feel weak and sick to your stomach… All your peers would’ve ended up dead either way. “I want to leave.” he hums, not mocking you but in acknowledgment. “And do what? You don’t know how to defend yourself; you have no supplies prepared, barely any survival instincts, and you don’t even know any information on the surface above. You can leave, but you’ll die…I can’t let that happen, sorry.” Charles buries himself more into you.

“I hate you,” You whisper.

“That’s okay…all that matters is that you're here…with me and only me… I’ll keep you safe and sound.”

N: This was a long one, whew! I had to think about how I could make a Yandere fic with Fallout, and I had tons of concepts, but this one stood out the most. I hope my execution was good enough....Anyway, my next fic will most likely be a jealous fic about my Yandere lord, so stay tuned! Till then! see you soon my little guppies (´꒳`)♡ extra note: Throughout writing this, I thought "My Way of Life by Frank Sinatra" would fit Charli perfectly.

#fallout #let me cook #yandere oc #yandere drabble #yandere blog #yandere male x reader #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere thoughts #x reader #yandere concept #oc x reader #yandere x y/n

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jazeswhbhaven · 3 months

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oml im new to this app btw anyways please do one where the demon kings and mc has a child more specifically a daugther that REALLY wants a little sister.I can already imagine it😭

Hi anon! Is this the same anon as here?

They were back to back and asked for the same thing so I was just wondering. Thank you for your request and your patience and welcome to the app! I know it's a bit confusing ;.;

Satan: He feels a sudden tug on his pant leg and he's beaming to see his little one begging for his attention. Her fangs bear with a smile as she asks him if she can have another sibling. "All I have are brothers...." as he can hear loud noises in the background and explosions as MC chases their rough and rowdy children around the palace as Satan laughs. "Why not? I'd be happy to have another..."

Mammon: He and MC are sitting down going over the finances for the household with how much they're investing into their daughter's up bringing. Bimet carries her in, rather annoyed that she's tugging on the money that decorates his hair. She happily jumps down and joins her parents, slapping down a piece of paper with crayon writing stating that she demands a baby sister and would have nothing less. The problem is that MC is already pregnant, and it turns out it's a boy. "Maybe next time, sweetheart..." he says, filing away her paper. "Fill out a different form after your brother arrives."

Beelzebub: Well, in a game of hide and seek it seems that Beel and MC's daughter has slipped them once again. Bael finds her under his bed upset that he gave her away. "Maybe if I had a baby sister I wouldn't run away so much. Go get me one now!" MC widens their eyes while Beel smiles and drapes his arm casually around MC's shoulder. "You heard her...looks like we need to get busy, hm?"

Leviathan: After a mini lesson of using her powers effectively with the help of Glas, Levi's daughter approaches her father and MC with a bow and a firm tone. "While I would absolutely hate the idea of being compared to a sibling, I want a baby sister." Leviathan doesn't oppose the idea, wondering if there are any orphan's he can adopt so his daughter can have the sister she wants without waiting. MC is open to adoption as well, it seems Levi's seed isn't too kind on their body during development (even though it's been nearly years since they last given birth) Lucifer: He loves seeing his little one fly about the palace, and bothering his nobles each time she gets a scrape or a scratch. But today she's more quiet than usual and he approaches her asking plainly what's wrong. She expresses how lonely she is, and that she wants more siblings, specifically a sister to play with. Lucifer acknowledges this and promises his little one he'll do what he can. Which leads to him wordlessly taking MC into the bedroom. *hehee*

#whb #jwhbasks❓#whb kings👑#the kings are out here having babies #Luci just dragging mc to the bedroom like yeah gotta make another one lets go #satan has a bunch of kids lmao he will not stay off mc

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dailyadventureprompts · 5 months

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Villain: Ser Klatterbell the Unbidden

You’re not on his list, but he’ll scratch you out anyway

Strange winds blow as the solstice nears, and though folk take shelter by their hearths and in the company of loved ones, a new threat rises beneath the boughs of the old pine forest. A hobgoblin knight recently crossed over from fairlyland, doing the bidding of a terrible archfey of bleakest winter who takes umbridge with the local festivities. Klatterbell is here to grinch things over, to steal presents and disrupt festivities, to douse the hope that mortals need to get through the season, and he’s going to have fun doing it. He and his rowdy goblin warband have the moral temperament of a stone packed into a snowball, callous sadism wrapped in the trappings of yuletide play.

Klatterbell has a list given to him by his master, the names of those causing a ruckous that threaten to disturb the winterfey’s sorrowful sleep. In the manner of most fairy-things, these transgressions are innocuous carried by the wind into the feywild : The song a farmer hums as she feeds her chickens, a baby’s laugh playing peekaboo, children arguing about the rules of a game they just made up, the ticking of a new clock a merchant bought to decorate his office.

The hob knight has been tasked with bringing silence to the mortal realm, specifically by finding the transgressors on his list and dragging them back to his master’s desolate dungeons. To this end, he has his minions skulking about eavesdropping, or ambushing folk on the road, demanding to know the locations of random strangers.

For his part, the unbidden quite likes being able to thow his weight around in the mortal realm and wants to tarry there for as long as possible. He’s got a magical sack that he can stuff victims in, putting them into an enchanted slumber and making them easy to transport. While the disapearances mount Klatterbell styles himself a yuletide bandit lord, stockpiling the fine things of the season while putting off finishing his job.

Adventure Hooks:

Something’s a bit off at this year’s winter festival. People are avoiding their neighbours, stealing from the market stalls, getting extra raucous at the faire games, or gorging themselves in the feasting tents. The actual cause is that some of Klatterbell’s gobbish minions have disguised themselves as their victims and snuck away to the festivities, intending on indulging themselves in all the mortal world has to offer.

Theoretically Klatterbell could be something of a local boogyman, having been the cause of disappearances over years, or maybe decades as he forestalls his working vacation away from the feywild. Every winter his list gets longer and he expends the minimum effort to scratch off a few names to keep his masters happy. What chaos then when the party finally confronts him and rescues his victims: people who have been gone for years suddenly returned, while others more recently taken are still missing, sent off to the feywild to buy the hob time.

In an act of utter villainy, Klatterbell and his followers have KIDNAPPED Yangle the Yulegoat, beloved feywild emissary of good cheer. Some of the kids on the edge of town saw it happen, after a group of hobs descended on their home, raided their larder, and used it as cover to ambush the visiting festive spirit. From what the children overheard, the hobs had intended to roast Yangle right then and there, but were so full up with stuffing themselves from the family’s winter provisions that they were going to have to drag the goat back to their old fortress in the darkest thicket of the snowy wood and save him for later. There’s no time to waste in raiding the goblin fortress, though perhaps if the party is clever they can disguise themselves as fey and slip in with some of the otherworldly guests invited by Klatterbell for the feast.

Also feel free to check out the comments of this post for some holiday hijinx suggested by my followers.

#winter #wintertide #villain #villain goblin #villain fey #rescue mission #festival #encounter town #encounter village #encounter forest #fey #goblins #feywild

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osamusriceballs · 4 months

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24 hours of Christmas <3

Different haikyuu characters x reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2,8 k

A/n: 24 different haikyuu characters and each will get a ~100 words drabble about how they spend Christmas with you! All soft and gender neutral I think (tell me if I missed something though), no warnings here! <3

5:00 am - Ushijima

"Toshi?"

You sleepily reach for him and grab his shirt. He pauses and turns to you, just a dark silhouette in the dimly lit room.

"Go back to sleep, y/n. I'll be back when you wake up." He talks lowly, but his deep voice still fills the room in a comforting way. Reassuringly, he grabs your hand, and his thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand. "I thought you'd stay with me. It's Christmas." He hesitates and thinks about this for a second. Then, you feel the bed dip under his weight, and he pulls your body against his. "You're right. I should take a rest day. And it's Christmas." He maneuvers your body until your back presses against his chest, his warmth making you feel comforted instantly. His body entangled with yours, that's how you fall asleep again with a content smile on your face.

6:00 am - Yamaguchi

Craftsmen start their days early.

And craftsmen also work on holidays.

Two things that you had to get used to after dating Yamaguchi Tadashi for years now. Your boyfriend has to work the early Christmas shift today, which is not surprising to you.

What you didn't expect, though, was to find a fully decorated table with breakfast and a sweet note when you wake up too. "Merry Christmas! I'll miss you today, my love! Enjoy your present and breakfast and wait for me until I'm home - I want to spend the day with you <3"

7:00 am - Tendou

"Babe," he grins while he presses a kiss against your lips. You can taste the chocolate on his lips; he probably stole a bit or two while preparing all the Christmas cakes at work. "Satori, why do you still have so much energy? You probably worked 8 hours non-stop." You sleepily smile back and grab his shirt weakly to pull him in for another kiss. "The thought of coming back to you filled me with energy. Wanna spend the day with you and watch cheesy Christmas movies. I have a list of the most trashy romances. Wanna get started now?"

You groan and rub your eyes. "Maybe just a short nap? And then we can get started?"

"Okay, babe. But I might eat your special Christmas cake while you sleep." He grins mischievously, and you gasp while you hastily push back the blanket and chase him to the kitchen.

"Don't you dare!"

8:00 am - Hinata

"Shoyo," you giggle while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling his soft hair tickling your cheek. "I don't wanna get up, y/n. Let's stay in bed a bit longer."

"You told me that there is a Christmas volleyball match. You told me it's a great idea to go there." You softly laugh when he whines while he keeps you from getting up. "I know. But maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe we should just stay here." You know that he's not serious, so you decide to play into his game. "Yes, Tobio can tell us about it later, huh?" Hinata raises his head instantly. "No way! Y/n, we need to go. Come!" He gently grabs your hands and directs you to the bathroom, and you let him lead you with a smile.

9:00 am - Nishinoya

"Look at this!" He excitedly points towards a dolphin, and you quickly snap a picture with your camera. "I got it, Yuu!"

If somebody had told you that you would spend Christmas in the middle of nowhere in the ocean, you would have laughed. But here you are, with only Nishinoya Yuu and more fish than you could ever count around you- and you actually couldn't be happier. "Do you want to go diving later? I have all the equipment for us." You grin and nod enthusiastically.

"That sounds great!"

10 am - Tsukishima

"Did you see my glasses, y/n?"

"I didn't- wait, I got them." You fish for them on the table, and he stands perfectly still while you place them on his nose. You smile and press a quick peck to his lips, ignoring his playful snicker after the action. "I should probably get a new pair anyway. My eyes got worse lately." He sighs, and you grin mischievously.

"Maybe you'll get a new pair from Santa tonight? Do you think you've been a good boy?"

He rolls his eyes, and you whine when he squinches your cheeks. "Careful, or else you will not get anything from Santa this year too."

You freeze at his words, thinking about the beautifully wrapped gift that you have spotted under the tree.

"I'm sorry, Kei! Please forgive me! Hey, don't walk away. KEI!"

11:00 am - Sugawara

"Did you-"

"Yes, I put the salad in the car already. We're ready, y/n, don't worry." He looks fondly at you, and you embarrassedly rub the back of your neck. "I just want it all to be perfect."

"I know." He caresses your cheek and looks into your eyes. "And it will be perfect. As long as we're together, it will always be." You nod and place your hand over his, feeling his warmth against your cheek. "Let's go then?"

His hand moves to your hand and grabs it gently.

"Let's go."

12:00 pm - Oikawa

"How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"Knowing that you'll get the perfect present tonight?" Oikawa smiles, and you pretend to think hard for a second.

"I don't know. You tell me?" His eyes widen, surprised, and then he laughs happily. "I can't even fight with that. You always have the best presents for me."

You playfully puff your chest, and he laughs even louder.

"That's why I love you, y/n."

"I love you too, Tooru."

1:00 pm - Kageyama

"Tobio, can you help me with the dress?"

"Yes." You hear him yell, and after a few moments, you find your handsome boyfriend in a suit right behind you. He is quick to move behind you and to close the zipper of your dress, his hands warm and skillful as he makes sure not to twist the zipper in the process.

He looks at you when he finishes, and his gaze softens.

"You look amazing, y/n."

"You too." You smile, and he leans down to peck your lips quickly.

"Let's go then?"

2:00 pm - Bokuto

His hand grabs yours firmly, and you thankfully scoot closer to him. He wraps an arm around you, and you feel warmer instantly. "You okay, baby?" You nod and smile at him, and he grins almost blindingly at you. "You look so cute, baby. With your cap and your scarf." He pecks your lips, and you grab his hand a bit tighter, already getting flustered.

"We have to hurry, though. Or else we'll be late at my sister's." He pouts cutely, and you quickly peck his lips to cheer him up - successfully. "Don't worry. We'll be on time for the Christmas dinner."

He nods at your reassurance and wraps his arm around you, and you cuddle against him while you both enjoy each other's near.

3:00 pm - Akaashi

"Keiji?" "Hmm?" he hums and raises his gaze. "You're reading a Christmas story, right?" He nods, his eyes following you curiously when you simply lay down on the couch and rest your head on his lap.

"Do you want to read it to me?"

He smiles and caresses your cheeks lovingly. "It's a funny Christmas story, actually. It needs a bit of proofreading, that's for sure, but it has potential."

You smile at him, leaning your face into his palm.

"Sounds good. Read to me then?"

"Yes, my love."

4:00 pm - Osamu

His arms wrap around you, and you smile when you feel his chest pressing against your back.

"What's my lovely wife doing here? Smells delicious." He buries his nose in your hair, and you smile while you pat his hand on your stomach.

"Just some Christmas cookies. Do you want to help me with the frosting?"

"Hmm." He nods but makes no attempt to move but continues to hold you. "Samu?"

"Just a little bit longer. Missed ya all day." He tilts your cheek and presses a slow, loving kiss against your lips, and you happily return it.

5:00 pm - Aran

"Have you seen the-"

He stops mid-sentence when he sees you with his Christmas-themed tie. You shake your head with a smile while you come closer to help him with it. "I can't believe you're actually wearing it. It's a fashion crime."

He sighs, his eyes closing for a short second while he probably regrets ever having met the Miya twins. "I'm sorry, love. It's just one night. I'll never wear it again. We can burn it after that."

You softly laugh and rest your hands on his broad chest after you finished fixing the tie. "It's okay. I will not leave you because of a piece of cloth. No matter how ugly it is." You scrunch your nose when you look at the atrocity adorning your handsome boyfriend's chest, and he laughs softly at your words.

"That's why I love you."

6:00 pm - Suna

"You're just like the Grinch." You scrunch your nose and look at your husband. He just rolls his eyes and darts towards the Christmas tree. "If I'm the Grinch, then why are there multiple presents for you under this tree?" You cross your arms in front of your chest and pout.

"Why don't you want to watch the Grinch then?"

"Not wanting to watch the Grinch makes me a Grinch?"

You quickly realize the holes in your argumentation and make an attempt to leave the room in silent shame, but Suna is quick enough to catch you and to wrap his arms around you.

"Nah-uh, no escaping from the Grinch. Come on. Let's watch it then."

7:00 pm - Matsukawa

A lazy grin is on his lips when he bites into the last cookie, his eyes rolling back at the exquisite taste.

"Don't you dare to finish this one alone! I swear to god, I'll leave you! I'll hand in a divorce, Matsukawa Issei! No more Mrs. Matsukawa, just imagine how lonely and cold your bed will be without me!" You playfully throw your hands and give him the most intimidating glare you can manage, and he is quick to surrender.

"I give up. Come here, Mrs. Matsukawa. I saved a whole cookie for you." He grins even wider when he shows you another cookie that he hid in his other hand, and you smile and sit down next to him.

"I actually love you, hubby, you know that, right?"

“Are you only saying that because you want the cookie?“

“…is it working?“

8:00 pm - Asahi

"Come here." He opens his arms, and you quickly join him on the couch and allow him to wrap his arms around you. You rest your face against his chest, and he presses a kiss to your head.

"That was a great first Christmas together." You nod and turn your face to him, only to see him watching you with soft eyes. "I think it was great too." You glance down towards the Christmas sweaters that both of you are wearing, the ones that he actually designed himself and feel your heart swell with affection and love for this man.

A great Christmas indeed.

9:00 pm - Hoshiumi

"I can't believe you beat me at golf." He sighs and falls dramatically back to the couch, and you move around the humongous Christmas tree to follow him. "It was literally Wii Sports. I don't even think the console is properly working." You lay down next to him, and he wraps his arms around you energetically. "No, babe. I just have the best partner ever. Someone who is able to beat a professional athlete at Wii Sports? That's either a Christmas miracle or pure talent."

You giggle and allow him to press a kiss to your lips.

"Maybe both."

10:00 pm - Sakusa

You place the last plate in the dishwasher and finally turn on the machine. "I'm done with the kitchen, Kiyoomi!" You yell and grab a bottle of mulled wine and two mugs.

"I finished the living room too." You hear Sakusa answer, and he suddenly appears behind you in the kitchen while you set a pot on the stove and empty the bottle into it.

He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. "Do you want to drink a glass with me?" you ask, and he nods. "I definitely need it after today." He groans, and you softly laugh. "I'm just glad that I got to spend the day with you. No matter how stressful it was." He smiles and pulls you against his body, and you happily wrap your arms around him.

"I love you too."

11 pm - Atsumu

"Not to be that person, but there's a mistletoe above us."

"And?" You put your hands on your hips and look at your blonde boyfriend with a pout. "And that means we have to kiss." He taps his lips with his finger, and you softly laugh at his cute pouty face.

"No, I meant, and why aren't we kissing already?"

You giggle when he eagerly places his hands on your hips and leans down to connect your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around his neck while you kiss him back.

"Merry Christmas."

12:00 am - Kita

"We should go to bed." You yawn and look at the fireplace in front of you, already dreading to leave the warm spot. "We could also sleep here? I can get the blankets and we'll just stay here?" You look at him with stars in your eyes at his words, and he can't suppress a fond smile at your reaction. "Sounds good!"

It doesn't take Kita long to come back with enough blankets and pillows to make you feel like you're in your actual bed. "I think that's enough, Shin. Just come here, please?"

He nods and quickly joins you under the blankets.

And that's how you fall asleep - wrapped in each other's arms while the room is softly illuminated by the fire.

1:00 am - Kuroo

You frown upon noticing that the light in the living room is still on. Slowly getting to your feet, you move towards the living room, where you spot your husband on the couch, softly snoring despite the brightly lit room. He was probably quite tired after the Christmas party at work that, unfortunately, you could not attend. Quickly dimming the light, you go back to the living room to grab a few blankets before approaching him. You set the blankets down and gently work on his tie- and he suddenly blinks tiredly at you.

"Y/n?"

"Shh, it's me—just let me remove your tie, then we can go back to bed." He hums softly, and when you caress his cheek, he turns his face towards you and kisses your palm.

It doesn't take long for you to get under the sheets with him comfortably, and he instinctively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

"Good night, Tetsu."

"G'night, love."

2 am - Kenma

"Merry Christmas, everyone. I'm gonna go now."

He skims through some comments, and his eyes linger on one.

"Where is y/n? Y/n will come tomorrow. If y/n's up for it, we might stream together."

He smiles at the prospect of seeing you tomorrow—finally. It's been way too long. "Y/n and I will just stay at my place tomorrow. Nothing special planned. We haven't seen each other in a while, so we just want to relax and catch up."

His eyes suddenly spot one comment from a user that is well-known to him, and he feels a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Miss you, my kitty. See you tomorrow! <3"

3 am - Makki

"I can't believe that we played Monopoly till 3 am."

You try to hide your yawn, but he definitely notices. "It was a great gift from me then, right? We should get some rest, though; you can barely keep your eyes open."

"You're right." You yawn again, and he gently grabs your hand, helping you get up. "Come on, y/n. Enough Christmas Monopoly for today. Let's go to bed."

You nod, and he says, "I don't know if you have enough money to pay for a night with me. My cuddles are expensive." He looks at the non-existent amount of money on your side, and you playfully smack his arm.

"Hey! Careful, or you can sleep on the couch!"

"Please, no!"

4 am - Daichi

"Sawamura?" You yawn when the bed dips with his weight, and a rather cool body presses against yours. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to wake you." You blindly press a kiss where you suspect his lips are but only find his cheek, and he softly chuckles. "Let us catch some sleep, and then we'll have our fancy Christmas dinner, okay?"

You nod and press yourself closer against him, happy that he is finally here with you in bed.

"Sounds good."

#haikyuu #haikyuu christmas special #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #I will not tag 24 different characters under this lol #this would take waaaay too much time lol #merry christmas everyone! <3 #I opened a bottle of wine and thought #why not?#ENJOY! <3 #I hope you like it! <3 #it's almost 3 am thooo #I'm really tired #can't even read this properly again #hope it's fine! <3 #LOVE YA! <3 #I hope you had a great day <3 #let me know which one is your favorite! I want to write a full fic tomorrow! <3

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meshlasolus · 3 months

Text

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 3

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of death, backstory angst, mild fluff, finnick is a warning and so is his smile. Lukas titties. A bit of risque clothing??

Chapter Summary: Finnick comes to his senses when the sun sets, but will it be enough to relinquish the bad thoughts when you reach the Capitol?

Word Count: 4.3k

I actually love this chapter i think it adds depth and ✨drama✨

“This is from your mentor,” he let out. He handed you the most ornate and delicate looking hair comb, made from pearl and seaglass, decorated with an assortment of shells and underwater trinkets. The kind that wash up on land for you to enjoy, never needing to excavate the waters to find them. “F-from Finnick?” “Yes, he thought you’d like to have it when you go out there.”

It was late in the night before he came to his senses. You’d not come out of your room the remainder of the day, not even to eat, and he wondered if you were used to that. You’d been reaped without a volunteer, so it was possible.

When he first approached your door, he hesitated to knock, or even stay standing there at all. Maybe he should give it some time, let the wound heal instead of digging the knife deeper… but then again, maybe he should tend to it, and not let it fester.

“Hey,” he tapped the sliding panel, “Can I talk to you?”

He received no response, and wondered if you’d heard him or not. He figured you might be asleep by now, so he took the chance on opening the door, saddened by what awaited him on the other side.

You hadn’t been sleeping, but you were curled up in a blanket on the corner of your bed, cheeks stained with tears and hands trembling with every shallow breath you took.

If he didn’t feel bad already, this made his heart wrench ten times worse than anything he’d done today.

You slowly shifted your gaze to meet his, hearing the door slide open and his single step into the room. Was he here to check on you? Maybe to berate you further or try to justify his actions and words? Who even knows?

“Hey,” he slowly approached, letting the door close behind him. He was anxious to get too close, he didn’t want to overstep or make you feel uneasy. He’d already been an ass to you, he didn’t need to fan the flames.

“Hi,” you breathed. You looked at him like a person would look at a wild bear. Afraid, but also with anticipation, preparing for the worst.

“Are you doing alright?” He asked, shuffling back and forth with his hands behind his back.

You nodded, looking away from him to try and keep composure. No, you weren’t alright. You’d been in here crying all day, reliving every bad thing you’ve heard said about your speech your entire life. Each insult or taunt ran through your head, and you imagined what the Capitol would think, how the sound of their laughs would play out, ringing in your ears while you tried your best to get a single word across.

He opted finally to sit on the edge of the mattress, his weight dipping down and causing you to lean forward a bit more than you were.

“I wanted to apologize,” he began, noticing how quickly your expression changed. You didn’t expect it from him, and perhaps there was something to be said about his character in that aspect. If you’d not expected him to be someone who could admit when he was wrong, then he should probably start dropping the arrogant and hardened facade when in front of the tributes. You can’t trust someone or listen to a word they say when you can’t see their humanity.

“You don’t h-have to.”

“Yes, I do,” he stopped you from going on with that foolish notion. Technically, he didn’t have to. But he did want to. “What I said earlier… it was out of line. I know you don’t wanna be here.”

You were sure there was more, but he seemed to be having trouble coming up with it.

“I’ve been in this world longer than I would like to have been, there’s things with the games that nobody sees behind the scenes of everything. Things that make it less… glamorous. When a tribute has something like a disability, or a flaw, it’s always seen as a weakness. In the games, the ones seen as weak are the first ones to go.”

His honesty was enlightening, but somehow made you feel even worse. Not that you’d felt good about anything in these games up until this point, but just the way it sounded was eerie and disheartening.

He looked back to you, your eyes still glazed over and puffy, the edges rimmed with red and pink. Your nose looked like it had been rubbed raw, the constant flow of tears inducing a runny nose, likely.

“I want you to win. Whenever I get new tributes, it’s like a new chance. A clean slate, to try and do right by those I lost the year before. I’ve had the displeasure of meeting, mentoring, and losing ten tributes before you. You have to understand that when I said what I said, I wasn’t thinking about your stutter or your lack of swimming abilities… I was thinking that I don’t want them to get you killed.”

You nodded, your understanding was somehow a detriment, but you couldn’t say it didn’t make sense. He was doing his job, which was to try and keep you alive. He wasn’t upset about your impediment, he was upset that the Capitol might shame you for it.

“Y-you never had a victor…” you trailed off, furrowing your brows and thinking about the emotional weight he must have gone through, and at such a young age. A victor at 14, and none since.

“I will this year, I know it,” he said aloud for the first time, since he’d promised himself.

Your eyes darted away from him and to your hands folded in your lap. The boy you came here with was indeed victor material, the finest young man any mentor could hope for.

“Lukas…”

“Or you.”

You were a bit shocked to hear this revelation. It made no sense for him to believe you could win when you’d already revealed to him your greatest weaknesses. You knew you were strong, but that didn’t mean you had the ability to kill someone, much less survive long enough to do it.

“But I-I can’t even swim.”

He shrugged, letting out a chuckle as if it were funny. “Neither can a lot of tributes, winners, even.”

“B-but I’m from four,” you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself in the moment. Really, you could see how someone would be annoyed with you. Growing up in a district where swimming was like walking, people threw their kids in the water sometimes before they could stand on their own two legs. And yet, here you were, with a deathly fear of the deep waters and having to traverse through them. “It’s c-crazy.”

“You’re right,” he nodded in agreement, a wide smile on his face. He had a nice smile, it made his eyes seem softer. He turned to you with a bit more of a serious look, and you knew his next question was probably something harder to answer. “How come you never learned?”

How should you even tell him? There’s no instruction book for a person in your position. You should have a magnificent explanation, but the truth of the matter is, you just got scared, once.

“When I-I was younger I loved playing in the water on the s-shore. I’d never been deeper than maybe five or s-six feet in, but I loved it anyway. There was o-one time when my dad told me he’d take me out on a boat when I was seven. It had b-been my birthday, I think. He and my mom and I all w-went out on this boat, and I got too c-close to the edge and fell in. I thought I could just s-swim to the surface, but I got caught under the boat, and started p-panicking. I’d started breathing in t-the water because I didn’t know what else to do, and I b-blacked out. When I woke up, my d-dad had pulled me out, but my lungs were burning, and I couldn't shake the f-feeling of being trapped in the water.”

Well, he certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He perhaps was thinking you just were unfond of the ocean, maybe you didn’t like the smell of saltwater or the seafoam or something, but not this. This was even harder to work around than he thought it would be.

“A few y-years ago I tried to swim in s-shallower waters again, and I got so scared t-that I almost d-drowned. Lukas had to c-come and get me.”

He’s helped her before, but he may not be there to help her again.

“Do you think you could try again? I think that maybe if I could help you in a pool or something-”

“I’m n-not sure if that’s the best i-idea,” you were immediately frightened at the thought of deep water. You couldn’t even take a bath without hyperventilating, so a pool sounded like torture.

“We could start slow. Maybe just dipping your toes in the water,” he reasoned, trying to remain serious, though he wasn’t a very serious person by nature, so it came across more as a joke. “I just don’t feel good about sending you into an arena unprepared. Let me do my job, alright? Let me be your mentor.”

You hated the idea, but then again, you hated the hunger games, too. If learning to swim could increase your chances of survival, you’d do it. The handsome mentor that was dedicated to helping you would just an added bonus.

The Capitol was beautiful from the moment you arrived. Everything was clean, and ornate, and pristinely taken care of. Four was a beautiful district, quite wealthier than some of the others, too… but nothing could have prepared you for the giant buildings and completely over accentuated streets.

Getting off the train with Lukas by your side, you turned to Mags and Finnick.

“This is where we leave you off, for now,” he explained, and Mags lurched forward to embrace you both. You mightily appreciated these gestures of affection, as your own mother wasn’t here to give them.

You held her tightly and could barely let go, but eventually did, for the sake of the transport that was ready to take you both to the stylist center.

“Where are we going?” Lukas asked, his curiosity always at the ready.

“To meet your stylists. They’ll be with you until the tribute parade, and then we’ll see you both after. Make sure to listen to what they say, they’ve been doing this a long time, they know what the people like.”

You nodded, following after Lukas to the large car. You gave Finnick one last look and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before getting in.

The ride wasn’t very long, but it was very scenic. You passed by several people, cheering at you and waving, excited to have another round of tributes visiting the capitol.

You waved back, a smile on your face as you got to look out at the interesting looking people and their interesting clothes and hairstyles. The culture shock was indeed there, but you found them to be more strange than anything. Anyone who watches a show that contains the death of children is indeed strange.

“I think they like us,” Lukas said, his smile wide and genuine. He’s never been treated this way before, especially not by so many people. The way he exudes confidence and nods to some of the young women out there makes them swoon, and he knows for sure that he’s getting on the right track.

“I t-think you’re right.”

The stylist center was full of people running a muck, taking tributes to be hosed down or to be waxed, or plucked, or whatever it is they were doing here. It was a whirl of madness and beautification, and you were very anticipant on seeing what you would have to have done.

Two people came to meet you when you walked through a pair of doors, the sign above them labeled with a large number ‘4’.

“Are you our stylists?” Lukas asked, straightforward and to the point.

The woman looked at her male counterpart and nearly laughed.

“Oh, no. We’re only here to prepare you as a fresh canvas for them.”

You reached your hand out to shake theirs, and they took it gladly, shaking Lukas’ next.

The woman beckoned you to follow her, and the man called for Lukas to follow him. You were both sat down at separate stations, where a change of clothes and the beautification table waited.

You weren’t even sure how many hours it had been by the time you were done. Your hair had been thoroughly washed, dried, and brushed, the smell of salty air long gone from it. They scrubbed the smell from your skin, too, leaving a more rosy aroma in its place. Your legs had been waxed, your eyebrows plucked, and even nails were filed to symmetrical perfection. It sounded horrible, but for only a moment, you were enjoying the process of this horrible event. You would have never been able to experience it, otherwise.

You waited in a room by yourself after, inspecting your fingers and toes, playing with the ends of your hair, everything you could to keep busy.

Your head snapped up immediately when a man, a bit on the younger side walked in. He couldn’t have been more than twenty six, but he was fashionably dressed, and he had deep black smudged around his eyes, a stunning blue.

“A-are you my stylist?” You asked quickly, hoping to keep the talking to a minimum so that he wouldn’t notice. It’s best if he just thinks you to be nervous.

“That, I am. I’m very happy to have been assigned to you, district four has always been my favorite,” he sat down in a rolling seat across from your table. “I’m Dalton.”

“Nice to meet y-you.”

“Likewise,” he paused, seemingly guessing your assumptions, and why you were keeping your words short and few. “Y’know, I talked with your mentor, he told me you stuttered.”

“He did?” You were afraid for a moment, that he would tell you to try and hide it from the Capitol, to not speak at all, even.

“He did indeed. You don’t need to worry. We think we’ve come up with a plan to make it beneficial.”

You looked at him skeptically. There was very little use in lying to you, but it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t understand how it could possibly help you, but you were willing to listen.

“All we need to do is balance it out. Make it seem like more of an endearing trait than something to be annoyed by,” he stood up, coming closer to examine the job that the preparation team did. Very good, from the looks of it, and he could envision every bit of what he’d been preparing for. “He told me you collect shells.”

“I do,” you nodded, still keeping your speech to a minimum, even after he soothed your worries.

He smiled, walking towards the door and revealing a hanger bang. He unzipped the front of it, and showed you what lay inside.

“Shells like these?” he asked, revealing the tiny cockle shells, tiny holes poked through them in order to have them sewn into what looked like shimmering fishing nets. You ran your fingers over them, smiling wide at the familiar trinkets, likely being collected from your home in order to make such an outfit.

“Just l-like those,” you loved the way that there were tiny gemstones added in-between each shell, connecting it to a pattern that was sure to look beautiful.

“Let’s try it on, hm?”

You nodded, taking the undergarments from him first, the skimpy swim pieces looking like fish scales against your skin. You went behind the shade and discarded the beautification gown before pulling them on. Having just had your body manicured to a tee, you felt far more confident than you perhaps would have in a swimsuit from home.

You stepped out and he made sure everything was sitting correctly before draping the fishnet dress over top. The way it sat over your skin and along the pieces of the undergarments was stunning. It was definitely revealing, but for the first time in your life, you didn’t mind it. You’d never been able to feel so confident before. Having a stutter was a pain in your ass, but this portion of the pageantry would require no speech whatsoever, so it was perfect for you.

“You look amazing,” he gave you a little twirl, and you giggled softly. You saw the pair of shoes he’d been holding, and reached to try them on. They were far higher than you were used to, but since you were standing in place on the chariots, you doubted it would make much of a difference. “I also have a few things for you.”

You watched as he shuffled through the bag, grabbing onto a specific item he’d been instructed to give you.

“This is from your mentor,” he let out.

He handed you the most ornate and delicate looking hair comb, made from pearl and seaglass, decorated with an assortment of shells and underwater trinkets. The kind that wash up on land for you to enjoy, never needing to excavate the waters to find them.

“F-from Finnick?”

“Yes, he thought you’d like to have it when you go out there.”

You handed it back to him, standing at your feet as he led you back through the doors you came. He explained it would be time for hair and makeup, which you were a bit anxious about. You’d never really done anything special to your hair, and as far as makeup went, you couldn’t really afford any, so a clean face was just what you were used to.

You’d run into Lukas on the way, seeing he was in a similar getup, except he wore what looked like folded boat sails around his hips instead of scales.

“How’s it feel to be a mermaid?” He joked, nudging your arm as you were both guided to a pair of chairs across from one another.

“F-feels good,” you looked him up and down, laughing at how bunchy the sails looked. “How’s it feel t-to be a boat?”

He rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair before his stylist turned him around.

You were very much comfortable until you reached the chariot. It wasn’t until the chill of applause and the irrational number of people bombarded your mind that you stirred with anxiety. You’d forgotten what this was all for, even if only for a moment. You’d felt like a true career, because the others like it, don’t they? They enjoy the attention and the parading and the celebrity status. All that comes with being a tribute, and maybe even a victor.

You felt confident in your dress, until you remembered the reason you were wearing it. Suddenly you felt all too exposed and very cold, the icy wind rushing into the tunnel and around the gorgeous manes of the horses.

The dress is too tight, it’s constricting and closely woven around your every curve. It’s too transparent, though feeling modest enough earlier, you feel as though you’re practically naked behind the shimmers. The netting feels like a trap, like you are a fish caught up in it and can’t escape, bound to be cooked and eaten before the sun fully sets. Your hair is pulled back, and you can’t reach up to find the comforting tether of the strands, the ones that resembled your mother’s and reminded you of her. She’s not here, your mother isn’t here… Everyone here is a stranger except Lukas, but he isn’t in any better circumstances than you.

You don’t even notice that your breathing starts to falter, getting shakier and more aggressive with every intake. Your hands are shaking, eyes watering up, but begging not to be spilled over.

Your stylist grabbed your hand, his eyes becoming concerned and his awareness of your state becoming clearer.

“You alright?”

You nodded, opting not to respond, trying to take slow deep breaths.

You wanted something of comfort, anything at all that could bring you a semblance of peace and control. The mood around you was so light and happy, but in the midst of it all, you are a tribute, and you don’t get to watch on gleefully, picking your favorites and seeing what happens. There is no anticipation, and there is no excitement, but there is anxiousness and there is fear.

Your stomach twisted, and you could faintly hear someone behind you asking for ‘a bottle of water for the tribute, she looks a little sick.’

You tried to focus, to think of something that might have calmed you back home… but it was of little to no use, as every time you thought of home, you thought of everything you left behind, and just how unlikely it was that you would return to it.

What brings me comfort, what brings me joy?

The sun, the sand. The shells hidden beneath the coarse grains, waiting to become a part of the collection atop your dresser. Deep breaths. Your mother’s hair, the soft strands that fell in swoops around her shoulders and always flew with the breeze.

Can’t go home, need something else…

The fluffy pillows on the train, they were nice… and the deserts, too. The view of the mountains through the fast passing windows, covered in the lightest dusting of snow. The soft hum of the rails that lulled you to sleep in your room, the sense of security that it was still moving. Finnick’s quiet laughter, escaping through a smile that was barely there. The whispered words of his apology and the sincerity in his eyes. He can help you. He wants you to win. He’s waiting for you at the end of the parade, to talk and let you know that it all went well.

Have to get to Finnick, he’ll know what to do.

“Alright, ladies and gents, we’re boarding!” A cheery capitol member walked by, clapping her hands to grab everyone’s attention.

“You can do this, okay?” Dalton gave you a nod of affirmation, and you repeated it back to him.

You’d found a happy thought, something that wasn’t a home you couldn’t return to, but instead someone who was within reach. He’s just at the end of the parade. His encouragement and that charming smile are waiting, you can almost hear the words spoken in his soothing voice.

You stepped up into the chariot alongside Lukas, giving him a forced smile before the district one tributes could be seen rolling out. Then two, soon three, and of course four.

The movement didn’t help to still your unsettled stomach, the nerves twisting and clawing at you. You had a stoic look on your face when you appeared to the crowd, but found that a smile felt better to hide behind. Again, it was forced, and you didn’t have any clue if you’d ever get to wear a real one after this… if you made it through this.

The shouting was drowned out by the sensory overhaul. Everything felt muted when you rushed by the stands, people shouting your name as if they have known you for years.

You had almost convinced yourself you were calm, that maybe this wasn’t so bad, and that you weren’t doing so terribly, and after this was over you could go back to the rooms and rest. It hadn’t occurred to you that you were holding onto a false sense of calm until the chariots parked. You lifted your eyes to the podium and there he stood. The man responsible for all of this, for all of these games continuing year after year, and for you being taken from your home. Reaped from your family, never to see them again.

It hit you again, the panic, the rush of insecurity… You’re exposed. It’s too cold. Everyone’s looking down at you. You’re a tribute in the hunger games, and you’re going to die.

You drowned out every word he said, trying to hold your happy thought. You felt like you might faint, but luckily, the sudden trumpeting sounds, and jolt of the small carriage had given you a momentary scare, the adrenaline enough to keep you from falling to the ground.

The chariots were exiting, the parade was almost over. You just had to smile and wave to the crowd for a few more moments, and then it would be over. Then it would be onto the next challenge. Whatever it was, you knew it would be better than this. You sincerely hoped it would be better than this.

One pulled into place first, then two, then three, and finally, as soon as the wheels of your transport came to a stop, you practically jumped from the small raised platform.

Where are the mentors? You begin searching, neglecting your fellow tribute on his own in your haste.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself, trying to no avail to hide the revealed parts of your body. It’s frantic, the way you’re walking, taking rather large steps in shoes you probably shouldn’t be.

You see him from a distance, entering the tunnel with Mags. He looks calm, and you hope that when you get to him, some of it will rub off on you.

As fast as your legs could carry you, you rushed over and nearly crashed into him. You stopped in time, and he took in your appearance. Worse for wear, eyes watering, and arms shivering. Due to the cold or to nerves, he didn’t debate it in his head. He’d seen what you were wearing outside, and figured it was a big step from what you’re used to.

“Hey, are you-?” he stopped himself, unsure that he needed an answer. Cold, maybe, but also, very self conscious and incredibly uncomfortable.

He quickly dragged his arms out of the sleeves of his fleece knit jacket, wrapping it over your shoulders and allowing you to cling to it. By the looks of your reaction, he’d been right to assume what he did. There was a wordless exchange after his hands left your shoulders, a moment to say ‘I don’t feel like myself, and I hate it’ and ‘Don’t worry, I can help you.’

“T-thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart

#finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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pyuppy · 4 months

Text

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a fruitful legacy challenge ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Hey there, I'm finally finding more time to play the Sims again, and I wanted to make myself a legacy challenge to keep me engaged in a long-term save.

I wanted to publicize these ideas so that others who are interested can have a new legacy challenge to try out for themselves! ♡

This legacy was inspired by the not so berry challenge and sims in bloom legacy ♡ You'll have 10 generations of fruit-based heirs to play with.

Sorry, but this legacy is going to be VERY PACK HEAVY. (If you'd like I will take into consideration making a base game legacy)

General Rules:

normal or long lifespan (aging on)

you can only cheat money for the first-generation house, and it should be no more than 40k. (keep the idea of a starter)

you must complete all generations' goals before their death.

you can have sims move around to different worlds and lots. you do not have to live with your entire family all the time (unless stated otherwise).

infants and toddler traits should be randomized and only once.

you can use as many mods as you want to add events and other gameplay elements to your game.

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Generation One: Banana

You've come a long way. You just turned twenty-one and saved every cent you earned from part-time work in your teens. It's finally time to reset and start a new life in a new city/town. Unfortunately, you can only afford the smallest, oldest house in the area. You're still grateful, and don't let it affect your enthusiasm. You are determined to make the most of what you have.

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Traits: Cheerful, Childish, Loyal

Career: Part-time Worker -> Educator

Goals:

Max the Fishing, Cooking, & Parenting Skill

Work part-time while going to college to become an educator (professor or admin path)

Upgrade and renovate your house overtime to facilitate your lifestyle and family.

Have your first child while in college

Marry as an Adult in your backyard

Take your family out at least once a week until your eldest moves out.

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Generation Two: Pineberry

You watched your parents work pretty hard in life yet still found time to raise you actively. You have always been quiet and always enjoyed your alone time. During those times, you'd isolate in your room and play games. Soon enough, you taught yourself a bit about coding, and ever since, your curiosity has been boundless.

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Traits: Socially Awkward, Geek, Loner

Career: Freelancer

Goals:

Max the Programming, Guitar & Gaming Skills

Program for money as a teenager to adulthood

Go to college but, drop out after the first semester

Maintain one friendship and marry them

Only live in apartments and decorate them monochromatic

Adopt one child (never have a biological child)

Play games with your child often

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Generation Three: Grape

After being adopted, there weren't many rules in your home. You used that freedom to skip school and travel to new places. In Del Sol Valley you became obsessed with the idea of fame and desperately wanted to act on screen! After barely passing high school, you move to Del Sol Valley with the little money allowed by your parents to seek fame, fortune, and maybe notoriety.

Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Materialistic, Ambitious

Career: Actor

Goals:

Max the Acting, Mischief, & Fitness Skill

Date multiple celebrities to increase your fame

Only marry when you date a 5 star celebrity

Become a 5 star celebrity and win an award

Purchase a mansion

Have 3 children and name them after luxury cars

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Generation Four: Cherry

Being born into wealth and fame is hard on a child. Having the world's eyes on you at all times didn't allow you to have a normal childhood. Especially when your parents were more concerned about chasing money. The one thing you're grateful for is the huge kitchen your parents owned. You spent a lot of your time cooking and trying new recipes. Feeding your siblings and experiencing new cultures has inspired you to pocket some of your parent's money and move to a new city to open your own restaurant.

Aspiration: Appliance Whiz

Traits: Foodie, Creative, Perfectionist

Career: Restaurant Owner/Chef

Goals:

Max the Cooking, Gourmet Cooking and Baking Skill

Be at least lvl 5 cooking skill before moving out

Start your business through a food stand in your yard.

Start a restaurant with a consistent menu (Japanese, Seafood, Italian, Soul Food)

Marry one of your employees and have a child with them.

Have your child cook dinner with you every night.

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Generation Five: Peach

You loved animals all your life. You begged for multiple pets and fed strays with leftovers from your parent's cooking. Wasn't too long until you wanted become a veterinarian. You seek to learn how to care for all animals and own them all! Making your house a sanctuary for animals has become your new life's purpose. Soon enough, you take in a child as well.

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Traits: Animal Enthusiast, Cat/Dog Lover (choose one), Outgoing

Career: Veterinarian

Goals:

Max the Veterinarian, Horse Riding, & Pet Training Skills

Buy a large plot of land to grow into your Ranch

Adopt a horse and dog in the same day.

Take one of your pets to work everyday.

Own a horse, a dog or cat, fish and other farm animals.

Never marry and adopt all of your children.

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Generation Six: Lime

As your parent was working the Ranch and a veterinary clinic full time, you surrounded yourself with books during your time alone. You were gifted a computer for your 14th birthday and immediately started writing your own fanfictions about book series you adored. After some online traction you decided to make writing your full-time job!

Aspiration: Best Selling Author

Traits: Bookworm, Romantic, Slob

Career: Writer -> Freelance Author

Goals:

Max out the Writing, Handiness, Logic Skills

Live in a tiny messy apartment

Get a degree in Literature and Language

Create an ongoing book series about a supervillain.

Make friends within your career/degree

Date 4 men before finding "the one" (the 5th)

Continue to have children until you have a girl

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Generation Seven: Blackberry

Of course, you've read your parent's works. You have been heavily inspired by their main drama series. You want to be a "Ultra Mega Super Villain" just like they wrote about. The idea of having the world under your control is exciting enough! Can't be too hard!

Aspiration: Public Enemy

Traits: Mean, Kleptomaniac, Jealous

Career: Secret Agent (Villain)

Goals:

Max the Logic, Charisma & Photography Skill

Get a degree in Villainy

Live in campus for college

Steal to afford college

Marry an Evil sim

The basement of your house has to be used for your villainous activities

Have 3 children and name them after famous villains

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Generation Eight: Orange

Your parents were complete assholes; if anything, you don't even like them? As a teenager, you spend a lot of nights at friend's houses and don't like to socialize much with your parents. You grow an interest in the military and "secretive" government agencies. You quickly join the military after college for a chance to work in covert operations. Maybe even taking down your parents in the process?

Aspiration: Academic

Traits: Hot-Headed, Ambitious, Active

Career: Military (Covert Ops)

Goals:

Max the Logic, Fitness, & Programming Skills

Get a degree in Psychology

Play piano as a hobby

Become enemies with your parents

Uphold multiple relationships but, eventually be caught cheating

Have one child and raise them alone

Be a strict parent

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Generation Nine: Coconut

You hated your insanely strict one-parent household. You became a delinquent seeking trouble wherever you went. Always sneaking out, cycling through partners and even clubbing on the weekends. Immediately after graduating you couldn't help your extroverted partying nature. You quickly drop out of college and have to make a decision. Nightlife, or a successful career? Who said you can't do both?

Aspiration: Party Animal

Traits: Non-Committal, Lazy, Party Animal

Career: Mixologist

Goals:

Max out the Mixology, Mischief and Charisma Skills

Get all F's in your first semester of college

Visit the same bar/club you "work at" on your off days

Date one of the regulars and have a child with them

Rush into marriage a week after their birth

Live in a duplex/townhouse and have a bad relationship with your neighbors

Raise your child to be an A student

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Generation Ten: Blueberry

After You worked VERY HARD to get where you are now, You're in the position of going to any university you choose and on scholarship. You plan to make the most of it by becoming a doctor. Finally, you can help support your family back home and also have a self-fulfilling career to keep yourself inspired. The problem is that you've never had time to "live" until now? Can you juggle school and a social life?

Aspiration: Academic

Traits: Socially Awkward, Clumsy, Squeamish

Career: Doctor

Goals:

Max the Logic & Fitness Skills

Get your degree in Biology and then another (of your choice)

Maintain 2 good friends

Marry someone in a non-STEM career/degree

Participate in all university parties

Max the Doctor Career

Have all your children in the hospital

Have at least 2 children

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #legacy challenge #a fruitful legacy #fruitful legacy

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