Tumgik
#ce characters x reader
royalsweetteaa · 9 months
Note
Hi! I really like your HC AU. Could you do one of how Cevans characters would react to reader flinching during an argument?
Oooh I love this idea! 🥹💔 Let’s get to it!
POV: Y/N flinches in midst of an argument.
Warning - The following HC contains: angst/fluff, comfort, reader has hinted trauma.
Steve Rogers
Tumblr media
Steve would cut himself off and stare at you. “Doll, why did you wince like that?…did I raise my voice too loud? I didn’t mean to if I did but I….you know me…I have never and wouldn’t…” Steve begins to ramble a little with his words as he processes what just happened. “Who hurt you, my love? Please, tell me…I’m worried…this had to have come from somewhere, right?” Steve asks as he’s ready to receive an explanation while pulling you in to stroke your back gently. He listens, already plotting in his head to pay ‘someone’ a visit responsible for your trauma response.
Ransom Drysdale
Tumblr media
Ransom raises his eyebrows as he sees you flinch and he furrows, confused. “Kitten,…did you seriously think I was about to hit you just now?” Ransom would ask with his arms crossed. “…Do you think I would steep that low?” A part of him takes offense as he first assumes that’s the whole story, but the pieces pick up slowly that this could have come from a previous encounter. He sighs, realizing he’s handling this poorly. “Darling…I didn’t mean for you to react that way. I hope you’re not scared of me…are you?” He’s relieved when you shake your head, and he decides it’s best if you both take a break from arguing. He comforts you, reassuring there’s nothing to be worried about. He hopes you’ll eventually tell him and explain on your own why you flinched.
Andy Barber
Tumblr media
Andy would shut his mouth the moment he sees you flinch, and he would stay still as he processes the moment. When he receives your look of feeling guilty, his face softens, “Oh honey…it’s okay, let’s stop arguing about this and talk about what happened, okay? Did I scare you?” He asks first, not wanting to put much pressure on you. He wants to know right away if it was him who had caused you to flinch, and he wants you to feel safe so he speaks in his most soothing tone. When he sees you’re not reacting negatively to his closeness, he pulls you in to an embrace, making you feel safe.
Jake Jensen
Tumblr media
Jake would stiffen, wondering what just happened to make you flinch. “Are you okay? You just flinched as if I was going to…” his heart breaks in a million pieces as he puts two and two together. He carefully takes your hands to give you reassurance. “Baby, what happened? Was it me?…You know you can talk to me about anything…I’m all ears, always.” Jake would reassure as he makes you sit down on the couch with him encouraging a chat about it. This incident would bother Jake for a long time, and he would often catch himself in future mid-arguments asking if he’s not coming across as too aggressive to make sure you won’t react like that ever again.
Johnny Storm
Tumblr media
Johnny’s sentence would die out the moment he sees you wince and ask, “What was that?”, distraught and confused. “Did you just…” he doesn’t complete his sentence as he flattens his hands and raises them. “Babe,…I’m never putting my hand on you…my parents, while they died when I was very young raised me good enough to know that’s never okay…I wouldn’t do that even if you called me names or cursed at me like Ben always does!” He makes light out of the situation to distract you and pulls you in to caress you when he sees a small smile form on your lips, already leaving you two to forget about what you were even arguing about.
Ari Levinson
Tumblr media
Ari’s response to you flinching would be to take a step back and give space between the two of you. He’s encountered women with traumatic responses before and knows that to deescalate the trigger, he needs to show he isn’t going to do any harm, like raising his hand. He would then say to you in a soothing voice, “Sweetheart,…I apologize if I came off as heated just now…let’s put this aside and think of something else, alright?” He would then crouch down, look up at you and making himself small to further deescalate your trauma response. You would respond getting closer to him and come into his welcoming and warm embrace, as you know Ari’s safe. It’s all forgotten and Ari doesn’t see any point of bringing up the argument again. Your feeling of safety comes first.
Tumblr media
Thank you @imyourbratzdoll for helping me out a little on this one! ♥️🥰
Hearts & Reblogs are very appreciated! <3
453 notes · View notes
krirebr · 5 months
Text
More Than This 1
Tumblr media
Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader
Word Count: ~4.1k
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Masterlist
A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜
Tumblr media
It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 
“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.
“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 
You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.
“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”
Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 
“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 
“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”
Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 
“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”
At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”
Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”
Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.
He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 
“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.
Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 
Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 
You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.
When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”
At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.
Tumblr media
You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 
When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”
That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.
“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.
“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.
“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.
“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”
You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”
“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”
“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”
That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”
“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”
“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”
You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”
“He give you a name?”
“Ransom Drysdale.”
Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.
“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.
“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”
“But you don’t like him.”
“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”
“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”
You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”
You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  
Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”
You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”
He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”
“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 
“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”
“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”
He sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”
Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”
You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.
“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.
All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”
“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”
You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”
“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.
“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.
He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.
Tumblr media
As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.
For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 
The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 
So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 
Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.
Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 
He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.
You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”
“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”
He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 
Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.
You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.
You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”
He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”
You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 
He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”
“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.
He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”
The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 
You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.
Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.
He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”
Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”
He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”
You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”
He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”
You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”
Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  
“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”
“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.
You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”
He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 
“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”
You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?
“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.
“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”
“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”
At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”
And then he was gone and you were alone.
Tumblr media
You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 
Tumblr media
Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 
Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”
You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 
“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 
“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”
“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”
He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”
You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”
His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”
“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”
“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.
As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.
Tumblr media
When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.
Tumblr media
Part Two
Tag list is open
@stargazingfangirl18
@drabblewithfrannybarnes
@thezombieprostitute
@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory
@bval-1
487 notes · View notes
brandycranby · 8 months
Text
ce characters when you've been going to bed too late (oh no now you're sleep deprived and have constant headaches)
it's me, i'm sleep deprived and have constant headaches.
steve: you won't sleep early? you scroll the interwebs even when he tells you in a very nice manner that it's lights out and time to snuggle? phone jail. you're not getting it back until the morning. "but what if there's an emergency?" well FRIDAY will have to notify you because that darn phone is going in the other room, yes he's being an old man about this but he's also squashing you like a fine weighted blanket so. there.
andy: bless his heart, he's also sleep deprived. and yet his stinky ass has the audacity to stand there with his arms folded, lecturing you on early bedtimes like you BOTH don't have splitting cluster headaches and an inability to focus. shame. go on, you're going to have to shame one another into showering and brushing teeth and getting into bed- no more emails, leave it- and finally, finally, turning the darn light off.
curtis: does this man sleep? by god he does. he has an illegally early start every morning so he goes to bed at 10:30 on the dot like an old man. that means he doesn't know that you stay up until 1, puttering about and doing whatever, tired but somehow disconnected from the ability to lay down and stop thinking. and this goes on for how long?? until he sees you frozen in the middle of the day, exhausted brain trying to catch you up on what you needed from the living room. then it's forced curfew. he points to the bed? you lay down. he's two hundred pounds, he'll make sure you stay there.
ari: another deep sleeper. you could watch a whole vlog next to him and the big lump just goes on snoring in his skivvies like an ol' bear. it's the hubris that gets you caught. a too bright scene makes you turn away and blink rapidly until the spots fade away... and you see ari staring at you, eyebrow raised, unhappy scowl underneath all that beard. ha. haha. oops. evening phone time is suspended indefinitely. it's going on the nightstand on his side and you're going under his arm, nose to pit, until you get a good night's rest.
jake: oh sweet fellow anxiety-haver, gamer, busy to-doer. of all these baes, he's the one who understands staying up for an hour longer, maybe two, just gotta finish this XML sheet or get to the next save point. but he's also an army man through and through. wakes up at 0600 hours (ew), goes for a quick run, jumps in the shower, makes breakfast all before you wake up. and you wake up slower and slower these days :(( so it's his new personal mission to stop at 11pm and scoop you up from whatever you're doing for bed time.
ransom: yes he gets up and writes in the middle of the night, sue him. it's called ✨inspiration✨ which is totally normal for a writer, it's better than writer's block and- hey! what are you doing up?? you're losing beauty sleep and he's slipping melatonin into your mouth, tucking you against his side, and rubbing slow lovely circles on your temples. you're no good to him like this, he scoffs, the house would probably get burnt down and you wouldn't notice. but he keeps tracing your eyebrows juuuuust right so you let that pass. for now.
---
get enough sleep, kids. head ouch.
282 notes · View notes
eloquentreverie · 1 year
Note
hehe so farms have barns and barns have barn cats 😌 do you have any cole + kittens/cats thoughts?
a/n: the cat lover in me came out with this one! thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy this!
requests are open!
oooh! definitely!
cole is such a big animal lover but he's such a big softie for cats especially. whenever he's doing chores around the farm he has these 3 kittens who love to follow him around in the early hours of the morning. and he always looks over his shoulder with a small smile to see if they're still following him after a few minutes or to make sure he doesn't step on them. he can be a bit clumsy at times and his heart always aches whenever he does step on an animal's paw accidentally.
when he has to milk the cows in the barn, every once in awhile one of his favorite cats, a black and white one will prowl in. sometimes even the momma cat will bring her kittens in too and he'll squirt the milk in a tiny little bowl and spoil the cats. and he adores getting to watch them gather around the bowl and watching them drink it and play together.
once he found out that all of the cats around his farm aren't going anywhere. one day, while he's at the store he decides to get cat and kitten food and almost every morning before he does his chores, he feeds them on the front porch and talks in a baby voice, encouraging them to eat. "come here, come here, buddy." he coos, watching them eagerly eat before he goes to start his regular routine for the day.
I feel like there comes a point that his family, mainly his sister and his dad start to tease him about it. his sister will always tease him, saying he's turned into a 'cat lady'. but he just shrugs it off. he doesn't care, he just adores all of them too much.
oh oh! and he's definitely going to keep the window open in his bedroom on the cool summer nights. he sleeps on the the second floor of the barn house and his room has a tiny little balcony so in the middle of the night, a few of the older cats will crawl in through the window and sleep on top of the blankets. and when he wakes up in the morning, he smiles at the fact that one or two of them are sleeping on top of his stomach.
when he starts dating you for a month or so, he eventually invites you over to the farm, showing all the things he does daily before he introduces you to most of the cats. And your heart melts at the cute little nicknames he's given them like, pepper, buddy, ginger, and midnight. the two of you sit down on the ground, despite it being a little bit muddy and just sit and pet the cats, cuddling them.
Tumblr media
divider credit: @/saradika
42 notes · View notes
dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months
Text
Belle Mort || LN4
AN: this was deep in the archives of abandoned fics but figured I’ll just post it anyway.
Pairing: Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader
Summary: Your paths weren’t meant to cross - he was a famous driver and your brethren were the thing of myths and nightmares.
Warnings: smut, major character death
Tumblr media
He didn’t belong here.
You could only surmise Vinny let him in the club because he knew an easy target when he saw one. Rich, young and handsome - he was ripe for the taking. A part of you knew not to get involved but, unlike your brother, you had a small conscience, especially when it came to the pretty, blue-eyed man who had shared your bed.
Making your way across the busy dance floor of Belle Mort, you snaked between the women who were selling themselves to the richest man one sway of their hips at a time. You slapped away roaming hands that tried to pull you into their laps and glared at the men until they looked away with wounded egos.
Your brother spotted the target and you stepped lightly in your high heels as you dodged the revellers, finally making it in front of the handsome man. “Qu'est-ce que tu fais, garçon perdu?”
Lando smirked as he cast his eyes over your body, the tight fitted dress hiding very little of the body he knew intimately. “I don’t speak French.”
“I know.”
His hand caught your waist and pulled you closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You didn’t call me.”
You rolled your eyes at the need that laced his words, but it would have been a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it. You had even kept his number when you should have deleted it. Your worlds were so far apart you didn’t see the point in making it more than a one night stand, it was safer that way. “I know. Find another bar.”
“I like this one.” His hand tightened and his thumb brushed over your ribs, tracing the curve under your breast. His smirk grew as he felt your ribs expand with the sharp intake of air you took.
“You’ve never been here before.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I own it.”
“Co-own, dear sister,” Nix added as he stepped to your side. “And if Lando wants to party then who are we to deny him.”
You narrowed your eyes at your brother. “It’s bad for business.”
“Why? Because you mixed it with pleasure,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair, cracking your neck as he pushed you away to leer at the man himself. “I can see the appeal. No one can deny you have good taste, it’s just a shame you always leave them broken.”
“What’s he talking about?” Lando asked as he helped keep you steady from your brother's push.
“Nix has always been jealous of me, haven’t you?” you taunted him. “Always wanted my dolls for himself.”
Nix’s jaw ticked and if the music wasn’t so loud you probably could have heard a tooth break. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
“I’m on a break,” you stated, catching Lando’s attention as you grabbed his wrist and started to drag him to your office before freezing. Your hand met bare skin and you held your hand out to your brother. “Give it back. Now.”
Nix rolled his eyes but reached into his pocket to return the watch he had easily lifted from Lando. The glass and diamond face slapped into your palm but you curled a brow at him and cleared your throat, waiting for the rest.
“You really used to be more fun,” he grumbled as he returned Lando’s wallet too. “Don’t worry, the condom is still in there.”
“And the cash?”
“I don’t think that is really your worry, but yes, cash too.”
Nix disappeared into the crowd and even you found it difficult to trace his movements but he was one of the fastest vampires you knew.
“Interesting family you have,” Lando commented as the music was cut off with your office door.
“You should be more careful,” you warned as you slid the security chain onto the latch. “This side of town could get a guy like you killed.”
“A guy like me?” he asked as he accepted the whiskey you poured, neat. “Handsome?”
“Well known,” you corrected, despite his knowing smirk. Of course you found him handsome, or else you wouldn’t have let him fuck you in the bathrooms of another nightclub in the city. You had a business meeting, with a wolf no less, and the owner had left you displeased, so you found another form of pleasure in his den. “Where you go, pictures are taken. That is bad for my business.”
Who knew what illegal activities those pictures or videos might capture and be uploaded. Voices had been silenced for less in the dark alleys around the club - but the bodies were never found.
Lando took a sip as he weighed your words of warning, but it didn’t stop him wanting to go another round with you. He knew you were different from the moment he saw you. Determination and strength rolled off you as you stalked through the club to a door labelled ‘staff only’. A different look of determination had been seen when you emerged, scanning the crowd for someone to use - he had come to the club for the same reason.
“I can be invisible, when I want to be,” he promised as he followed you to the desk you leaned back on, crossing your heeled ankles in front of you. He placed the glass on the wood beside you and smelt the smooth spirit on his breath when he kissed the corner of your lips. “But I wanted you to notice me, again.”
His hand ran down your thighs and your ankles uncrossed. He took the space given and parted your legs so he could step between them and steal your moan with his kiss. His tongue parted your lips with the same confidence he parted your legs and he hummed when your hands slipped under his shirt, your nails dragging down his spine.
“I’m going to fuck you on your desk and every time you have a meeting here you will think of me.”
Desire pooled between your thighs at the promise and when his fingers found your body bare beneath the dress he felt it slick and warm. “You like that idea don’t you?” he chuckled in your ear, the deep timber of his gravelled voice making you clench around his fingers before they withdrew from you. “Turn around.”
For a woman who considered herself to be the bossy one, you were quick to follow his instruction and it didn’t go amiss from the smirk on his face. “I don’t remember you being this demanding last time,” you said over your shoulder, feeling the air on your skin as he pushed your dress up over your hips.
“That’s because you looked like you needed it more than me.” He flipped his wallet open and pulled the condom out, tearing through the foil packaging before rolling it down his hard length. With one swipe of his arm he cleared space on your desk and started to push you down before he changed his mind and spun you to face him. “Actually, I want to see your face when I make you come.”
The mahogany wood was hard under your ass and you spread your knees for Lando to step between. His cock pressed to your entrance and he watched your lips part as he slowly began to stretch you, inch by inch, until he was fully sheathed inside you.
“You’re going to call me, aren’t you?” he asked with the teasingly slow retreat he made. He stopped just short of leaving you empty and made no move to fill you again. “I’m not going to fuck you until you answer me.”
You tried to shuffle your hips closer but he held them tight and your feet were off the ground so you couldn’t move, not without revealing your unnatural strength. Finally a frustrated sound left your lips and he smiled triumphantly when you agreed. “Now would you please fuck me?”
He answered with the snap of his hips and you moaned in unison as he filled you completely. The computer screen came to life and the mouse moved with the rocking desk and the cup of pens tipped over, scattering among the mess he had already made. Stars danced across your vision and your body pulsed with the deep bass that made it through the soundproof door.
“Lando,” you moaned as you tipped his head back, baring his neck as you felt your canines elongating behind your lips. The throb of his rapid pulse invited you to taste him and you dragged your nose over the vein, inhaling the rich scent hidden beneath his cologne. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
He shivered as your teeth grazed his skin but he was too far gone in his pleasure to question the sharp points. Just a little sip, you told yourself.
Lando gasped as pain flared, but just as quickly as it came it bled to a burn that felt better than any high he had ever had. He couldn’t breathe as you sucked at the puncture wounds, filling your belly with the same need you had for his cock.
He couldn’t explain how he found himself sat on the couch in your office with you on his lap, he had only blinked. You were high on him, making silly errors like using your speed and strength carelessly. You weren’t new to this life, but you were acting like it with him.
“Why did you come here?”
His head fell back and his eyes closed as you took your pleasure in riding him. He couldn’t think, there was only the tight feeling in all his muscles as his orgasm threatened to shatter him beneath you. “Just wanted you,” he choked as he bucked his hips up to meet you. “Again.”
You cried out as your climax peaked and Lando followed, unable to hold back with how tight you felt around him. Your head spun as the high receded, but you wanted more - it was the curse of immortality, you always wanted more.
You turned his head and struck again, lapping at the twin lines of life blood running down his collar. Cursing inwardly, you realised you were taking too much, you always took too much when you played with your food. Lando’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing laboured, his skin fading before your eyes. Nix was right, you always left them broken.
“Fuck,” you growled at the thought of losing another man. Tearing the skin from your wrist you made what was possibly the second biggest mistake of your life, the first would always be asking for this life. Your blood was thicker and darker than his, staining his lips as you squeezed it out before the wound could heal.
“Wake up…” You prayed you weren’t too late, the seconds ticking by with quiet reassurance that time would continue to move on even if Lando never did again.
Nix crashed through the office door as dawn approached and the club closed. His black eyes found Lando’s body on the couch and a sneer carved across his lips. “What a waste.”
You barely lifted your head from your hands as you sat at your desk. You had felt lethargic from a full belly and drained veins. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You never do,” he snickered. “There will be people looking for him, I’ll have Vinny dump him in the marina - another rich boy who partied too hard.”
Lando gasped as he jolted upright, his eyes ringed red from the transformation, and a war waged within you. Rage exuded from Nix as he realised the danger you had put the entire coven in and his features sharpened as his fangs pierced his lips. “You would bring the Council down on our heads, sister?”
“I said I didn’t mean to. I just couldn’t stand to see another die because of my weakness.”
“I would rather you have just killed him.” Nix pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. To change a human required petitioning to the Council, and permits were rarely given this century - and certainly not to those well known. People tend to notice when someone doesn’t age at the same rate: Jennifer Anniston, Cillian Murphy, Paul Rudd, Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Those half breeds could get away with it for a little longer but they would soon be faking their own deaths to keep the secret of their heritage.
“Take him to the mountains,” Nix said as he crossed the room to where Lando writhed in pain on the carpet, the transition destroying his delicate human cells for something much more robust. “I’ll tie up the loose ends here.”
Nix took the car keys from Lando’s pocket and checked his watch. There was still enough time before dawn came to wreck the car off the cliffs and into the French Riviera. When the car was found empty they would assume his body was carried out to sea. Lando Norris was dead. Lando de Belle Mort had risen.
437 notes · View notes
Text
The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)
Tumblr media
Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^
Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story
(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)
Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff
Word count: 2.4k
Tumblr media
“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.
This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.
He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.
He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”
He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.
The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.
You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.
The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.
You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.
Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”
Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.
“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.
A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”
“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”
A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.
A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.
This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.
“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.
“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.
“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”
The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.
“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.
Tumblr media
Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself
Part 2 here!
Post dividers from @cafekitsune
524 notes · View notes
livums · 10 months
Text
Liv’s {Totally Optional Non-Mandatory Completely Voluntary} Pointers for Fleshing Out Character Relationships
Hi I’m liv e. and by middling demand I am going to blab a liiittle* bit about relationships.
So I will start by saying that I’m trained & licensed as a marriage and family therapist. So this is kind of what I do all fucking week. And I like this whole writeblr thing so why not make it fun and about fiction instead. LOL.
The purpose of this liiiiittle** post is to offer some ways in which you, a writer (great job btw!), might deepen your own understanding of the relationships between two or more characters in your writing. More specifically, by thinking a little deeper about how relationships function in real life.
These are ways in which I might conceptualize a relationship between people who seek my services as a clinician.
A small disclaimer: the VAST majority of my work is with couples (because I. prefer to see couples over families, lol), so this advice is coming from that perspective. Please keep in mind also that there are certainly infinite other ways to think about relationships. This is just the way I was trained. Or at least, the parts of my training that resonated with me the most, especially as I began writing more seriously.
My hope is that reading and practicing/toying around with these tips will help add another dimension to how relationships play out in your writing. So um. Cheers! Let’s chat.
*it’s not a little. it’s a lot.
**it’s a long post.
i. What I Say vs. What I Mean
When was the last time your partner or good friend pissed you off?
Maybe they were flippant about your feelings. Maybe they blew you off to hang out with someone else. Maybe they keep loading the dishwasher like a neanderthal.
And did you say to them, “Baby/honey/sweetums/bestie, it really upsets me when you load the dishwasher like that. I’ve asked you to do it X way several times, and it feels like you’re not listening to me, or that you don’t care about how I feel” ?
Probably not? Because, hello? (If you did, first try, then, wow! you’re a better person than i’ll ever be.)
You might’ve said “Dude, stop cramming shit in the dishwasher like it’s a fucking suitcase,” or “Haha, wow, again with the dishwasher. Awesome. No, it’s like, whatever.“ Or you might not’ve said anything at all, on purpose.
There is a tension that exists, there, in the CONTRAST between what we are thinking/feeling/meaning (e.g., I love you/I miss you/You hurt me) and what we are communicating via our words and actions (e.g., You never make time for me/You’re so lazy/You’re such a(n) [expletive of choice]).
That tension is ... really fucking interesting to read, huh!
Personally, I have a lot of fun watching the needs/wants/feelings of a character (that we might be privy to, as readers) get filtered through their unique... voice.
So say you write a character who is quite rough around the edges, and not very skilled in affection. They have a deep yearning to be close to [love interest], but they just aren’t accustomed to languaging their true feelings. Maybe we see how scared they are of putting their feelings out there. It’s vulnerable. It’s terrifying.
So instead of “I really care about you, [love interest]”, maybe it comes out something more like “Don’t you have anything better to do with your time than follow me around all fucking day?”
And we, the readers, are like, wow! That’s not what you were thinking at all man! You’re so bad at this, that’s awesome.
So the point of all this is that it’s very helpful to clarify for yourself, in any meaningful interaction between characters in or soon-to-be-in a relationship:
What are the characters individually thinking during this interaction? What are the emotions that are present? How does it show in their body or their movements? Are they careful not to let these things show, or do they not notice at all?
How are they expecting this interaction to go? (Are they afraid something might go wrong? Are they looking for a certain reaction from each other?)
What DON’T they know about what the other person is thinking? What are their assumptions about how the other person perceives them--in general, and in this moment?
What is the GAP or the CONTRAST between all of the above and what actually ends up coming out of their mouth? Or what actions they end up physically taking (or not taking)?
Are the characters aware of their own contrast, here? How do they feel about it? Or, do they think they are being perfectly congruent?
In this way, you have the ability, as a writer, to create some devastatingly (or delightfully) poignant moments between characters. These are the moments that can really sell the reader on the relationship--its importance (why are you showing us this?) and its appeal (thank you for showing us this, this blew our tits off, etc).
ii. Tender Spots and How to Attack Them for Fun and Profit
So we’ve got issues.
What are the things that really fuckin get at you? Those topics that, when brought up, make you really upset and really defensive at like, mach speed. Maybe you’re insecure about your skills. Maybe it really bothers you when people see you as weak/unintelligent/a burden/unattractive. Maybe you have a rough and complicated relationship with a family member.
So these can be thought of as, like, tender spots (lol). You can also think of them as “raw” spots, sensitive spots, or triggers.
Figure out what your characters’ are!
This is another key way in which you can create deep and believable interpersonal drama--Character A (accidentally or intentionally) stomps all over Character B’s sensitive spots. So to speak.
A very cursory and relatively uncomplicated example of this in action:
Tasha and Mimi are two adults in a committed partnership.
Mimi’s got a real fucking chip on her shoulder about being seen as a burden--her father always went to great lengths to make sure she knew just how much he did for her, just how many opportunities he passed up in order to raise her, just how great his life would have been if she’d never been born.
Tasha is the oldest of five siblings. She was frequently tasked with their care, growing up. She did her best not to complain, as her parents were always very busy working to keep a roof over their head. So, Tasha did her part. She would’ve loved to rest and play and goof off like other kids and teens, sure, but it never felt possible with all of her responsibilities.
Mimi is suddenly injured and is unable to do certain things on her own that she had been doing before. Tasha goes about taking care of these things as well as taking on certain other tasks on her own that the pair of them may have tackled as a team before. Tasha feels stretched very thin by the workload, but is deeply concerned about how Mimi feels. There’s nothing to be done about the situation, she reasons, so there’s no point in complaining about how stressed out she is.
Mimi offers to help to the best of her ability, but Tasha is very concerned about her, and insists that Mimi rest and not exert herself. Mimi insists back. Tasha insists back back.
Mimi points out how stressed Tasha must be. Tasha agrees that she is stressed, but does not elaborate on her feelings. Mimi assumes that Tasha must think that she is a burden.
Mimi then becomes very emotionally activated--she is reminded, consciously or unconsciously, of how shitty it felt to have her father tell her over and over again what a burden she is, and how better off he would be without her. So this must be how Tasha really feels about her, Mimi accuses.
Tasha, who is very stressed but who cares very deeply for Mimi and her well-being, and who does not see Mimi as just a burden, becomes very activated in turn--she feels maligned and misunderstood. And now she certainly can’t talk about how stressed out she is, because it will only convince Mimi that she is right.
So Tasha is now convinced that she must continue to hold her feelings in in order to keep the peace--she’s reminded of her childhood spent taking care of others, and how she never felt allowed to express herself.
This example is obviously from a very zoomed-out view, chronologically, and is not exactly the way we would see it written in fiction (fiction is much more moment-by-moment and, well, exciting, usually). BUT we can see where Tasha and Mimi’s sensitivities lie, and how they specifically hurt each other with their behavior (unintentionally, in this case) by stomping RIGHT ON those sensitivities.
Readers love drama. And drama makes the plot go ‘round! So don’t be afraid to lay it on them!
In your (very good and compelling) writing, ESPECIALLY if you want to write engaging relational conflict, you would do well to clarify what your characters’ deepest sensitivities are. Consider the following:
What needs went unmet for them, growing up? A very cliche therapist-y question, but for good reason--our upbringing is where many of our deepest insecurities originate.
Additionally/alternatively, what do your characters understand to be their role in relation to other people? E.g., are they always the caretaker, the burden, the comic relief, the heartbreaker, the lonely hero, the boss? How did they first get this idea of who they’re ‘supposed’ to be towards others, and how was this reinforced throughout their life? Are they satisfied or dissatisfied with their ‘lot in life’? What do they hate about their ‘role’, if anything?
What sorts of situations might remind them of what they hate most about this role? E.g. ‘I enjoy taking care of others, and I’m good at it, but my partner gets upset if I discuss how stressed I get sometimes--I’m never allowed to express myself.’ How can you incorporate these situations into your story to create conflict?
How does your character respond when these sensitivities are triggered? Do they lash out? Do they retreat and get quiet? Do they ghost people altogether?
What do they think will happen if they are unwilling or unable to fulfill this role in their relationships with others? E.g., ‘My partner will leave me if I am not a good caretaker’, ‘Nothing will get done right if I’m not the one taking charge’, ‘If I don’t keep others at arms’ length, even if they say they love me, I’ll end up hurt.’
This is another way in which you can help your relationships really come to life! Anyways. Read on for more cheer and relational joy!
iii. We’re Attracted to What Hurts Us Sometimes, AKA Oops! I Ran into the Knife, Ten Times,
(less of a part 3 and more a part 2.5, but it was simply too long. so,)
So maybe you have a good idea of what your ideal partner/bestie looks like. It’s probably any number of positive traits: kind, considerate, good sense of humor, shapely posterior, ambitious, active, fun-loving, studious, etc.
What probably don’t make the list are things like: emotionally distant like my mother with whom I long to have a reparative experience.
Maybe you’ve witnessed (or been in) a relationship wherein all parties can be described as ‘just so bad for each other’. And maybe this relationship should not have lasted as long as it did (or shouldn’t be lasting as long as it is). And maybe you’re like--’Why are these assholes still together?’ Or, importantly: ‘Why did these assholes get together at all?’ The answer may surprise you! But more likely, it won’t.
Sometimes, we pick people on purpose specifically because they stab us right in the sensitive spot (again. so to speak).
(i should clarify before moving on: I am specifically NOT talking about relational abuse, here. That’s kind of an entirely different subject that is like. the cousin of this subject. In this discussion, I specifically mean relationships in which there is no major power differential--you’re just bad for each other. These relationships can be what we might call ‘toxic’, sure, and painful, but not abusive. The distinction is important, moving forward. ok ty)
[Author’s Note: I need everyone to know that I wrote and subsequently deleted 700 words here because I realized they didn’t make any fucking sense ok. let’s try this one more time.]
Essentially, it’s a known phenomenon among humans that, when we have experience with relational distress in the past (e.g. a partner who neglected you emotionally, or parents who disregarded boundaries you tried to set), we like to seek out similar people with whom to form relationships. Weird! But not really.
The human brain seeks closure and resolution--where we couldn’t get things to work out with our parents, or our exes, we try to get the same situations to work out next time, with someone new.
Let’s look at another example, together. Take my hand,
Suppose you write a character (Character A) whose mother was in and out of their life from a young age, and never seemed to prioritize them. Now suppose you are looking to craft a fraught or tragic or dramatic romance (or other relationship) with this character. Using what you’ve written of your first character’s backstory, you can do just that!
It’s perfectly believable, you know now, for your Character A to pursue a love interest (Character B) who has a tendency to... not want to stick around. Maybe this love interest seems to fear commitment and intimacy.
Now, maybe Character B in actuality has a very dangerous profession that requires that they maintain the utmost discretion, and be ready to flee anywhere at a moment’s notice. Maybe the fate of the city/kingdom/nation/world relies on B’s profession.
It probably doesn’t make them leaving all the time hurt A any less, though.
Character A, unconsciously or not, is determined to make things work this time around. As the relationship deepens, B is faced again and again with the choice--stay, for your love, or go, as duty commands. Maybe they’ve taken a vow for their profession that is no light thing. They leave, time and time again.
Character A, unconsciously or not, remembers this feeling--it’s an old one. Mother, time and time again, chose something else over them. It would be understandable for A to feel a deep anger towards Mom and B both. Maybe A takes drastic action to get back at B (action that is also, symbolically, retaliatory towards Mom)--maybe they cheat on B, or do something that endangers their own safety.
When all they really want is just to get B to stay.
It’s probably very clear now why it’s not so simple a thing for A to choose to date someone more consistent--this is something that goes beyond B alone.
In this way, you can very easily weave themes into the relationship(s) of your main characters. Maybe the story of A explores the pain of abandonment, or loneliness. If B is the protagonist, maybe the story explores the way we excuse our shitty behavior in relationships (maybe the job is a pretext--maybe they really are scared of commitment), or maybe it’s about the dilemma of duty over love.
Relationships don’t always make sense. Or rather, they do make sense, just in a different way than we might expect. You can use this understanding now to intentionally explore a number of complex relationship dynamics, and to create nuanced (but sympathetic) characters. As you do, consider:
In your existing characters’ relationships--what keeps these assholes together? Why do they have to be with each other, as opposed to anyone else? This is important, again, for selling the reader on the relationship, especially if it’s your work’s main relationship.
What initially attracted your characters to each other? Consider again from the previous section (what is this, a fucking textbook?) the historically unmet needs of your character(s).
How do your characters go about expressing their needs? Think again about CONTRAST here--what is the discrepancy between what the actual need is, and how the character seeks to fulfill it? E.g. ‘I need to keep B from leaving me, because it really hurts me when they go, so I’ll go risk my life just to keep their attention (rather than express this pain to them).’
What similarities, if any, exist between your MC’s relationships with the people in their present lives, and your MC’s childhood relationship(s) with their caregiver(s)? Could you expand on/deepen any similarities in your writing? What themes might emerge if you did?
iv. Change / The Arc
So you’ve got your work’s central relationship. It’s believable, it’s just the right amount of dramatic, it’s suitably tragic, and just all-around devastating. People will cry. Great job!
Now what?
Well, that depends--what ending do you envision for your relationship?
If they remain together, do they get the happily ever after? The happy-for-now? Is the reader left to wonder about whether or not their relationship will survive?
Do they not make it at all? Are they separated by tragedy? Do they crash and burn? Or maybe they try their best, but despite how badly they love each other, it’s just not enough?
Whatever the Point B of the relationship is, if it’s central to the work, you’re gonna want to have a clear arc in there. Or not, idk, I’m not your mom.
You might already know, if you inhale every piece of writing advice you come across (like me), what makes a compelling character arc. The good news is that it’s much the same with relationships! Kind of.
Systems (relationships) tend towards homeostasis. Without deliberate intervention, relationships want to remain the way they’ve always been. Just like people!
And just like characters, relationships need a reason to change. Like a catalyst, or a motivation. Whatever the hell you wanna call it.
It’s not always, like, complicated to figure out the driving force behind change in your central relationships. Sometimes the pieces fall together!
Pay attention to the characters within the relationship--as your characters progress through their arcs, their relationship will naturally shift. It will probably not look exactly the same as it did when it began--there might be similarities, of course (they’re not entirely different people.. usually. And there’s a beauty to bookending a story with the familiar, certainly). But in this case, the relationship can be thought of as an extra character, almost. It’s unsatisfying to read a whole story wherein a central character stays exactly the same. It’s further strange and incongruent for a relationship to stay exactly the same while the characters have like, achieved actualization or whatever.
Outside events can force change on a relationship, just as they do individual characters. A couple that’s close to Characters A and B get married--and A & B start to wonder what their future together even looks like. B’s company hires a fiiiine honey, who’s exactly B’s type, and A starts steaming about it. A pandemic ravages the nation, and to prevent the spread of the virus, A and B have to stay inside togeth
YOU GET IT ok anyways I’m fucking tired of writing. If you’re wanting to develop the arc of your MCs’ relationship(s), think on some of this:
Do your characters see any problem(s) present in their relationship? Are they all equally aware of the problem(s)? Do they agree on what the problem(s) are?
How secure are your characters in their relationship? If anything could possibly cause doubt and conflict to arise, what is it?
Where do your characters see their relationship going in the near future? In the far future? Do their visions align? If not, how do they differ? Do they even want the same thing?
Is the arc of the central relationship congruent with the arcs of the characters who comprise it? I.e. does the relationship remain exactly the same as it was when it started, despite the characters undergoing wild metamorphoses? Is the reverse true?
When you think about their relationship, INDEPENDENT of any ending you may already have decided, where do you see it going? Like, where do these people feel like they’re headed, realistically? Does this align with the ending you’ve decided on for them? If not, this doesn’t mean you’ve written a bad relationship or anything, it’s just a possible sign that some really intense shit might have to happen in order to shift their course, y’know? Or not--the world is your oyster and you are the God of your own creation!
What are you trying to say with your story, and do the arcs of the central relationships reflect that message?
final thots
If you read all that shit, thank you. I wrote it all in one sitting and posted it without proofreading 💜
In all seriousness, I want to emphasize that, although some of these aspects of relationships are most visible in rels with a lot of anguish and maybe even some toxicity, you by no means have to write this kind of relationship in order to make use of these tips. You could write a very Normal couple!
The idea is to offer you some avenues through which to consider aspects of your characters’ psychology and personalities, and how they mesh or clash with their partners’ or besties’.
Anyways I hope this was helpful. I love talking about relationships I could literally go on and on all day. Which I kind of just did so. lol.
I’ve been liv and I’ve got two main WIPs I’m working on right now: The Romance of the Demigods and The Marking Blood and they’re full of really really super normal relationships and examples of me definitely taking my own fucking advice.
Cheers and happy writing! 💖💖💖
837 notes · View notes
eminems-skittles · 5 months
Note
🏃‍♀️ - for the writing game :)
drop an emoji and character in my ask box and i’ll write a blurb based off whatever song comes up on my playlist
song: tennessee orange by megan moroney
pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader
a/n: my french is a mix of 2 years of high school french, duolingo, and google translate so it may not be the best!
tagging: @jackhues
orange
Tumblr media
“when are you going to tell your brothers?” lando asked quietly as he pressed soft kisses to the column of your neck. he had snuck into your room after everyone had stopped caring about his whereabouts.
“soon, baby,” you promised, your hand going to tangle in his hair.
“when’s soon? wanna see you in orange not red on sunday,” he huffed, his lips coming up to kiss the shell of your ear.
“lando, if i tell them before the race, charles may just drive his car straight into yours and i don’t want to go visit you in the hospital,” you groaned, kind of pushing him off of you. he looked at you and shook his head.
“it just feels like you don’t want to tell them,” he admitted.
“i want to tell them so bad, lan, i just don’t want you to be on the receiving end of any of their anger or anything,” you sighed, bringing a hand up to his face. he turned and kissed the palm of your hand. “what if i told maman instead? tell her now and then charles and them later okay?”
“okay,” lando agreed, a smile taking over his features. “thank you, love.”
the brit leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, pulling you close to him.
the next morning, you decided to go to breakfast with pascale. nerves shot through you as you figured out what you were going to say to her. you knew she wouldn’t have as big of a problem with it as your brothers but her reaction still had you worried.
“what is it?” your mother asked after you had been spaced out for several minutes.
“maman,” you started. “i’ve got some news.”
“quoi?” what? she asked, her eyes scanning your face.
“i’ve met somebody,” you trailed off, looking to her face for a reaction. she nodded, silently telling you to continue. “he’s got blue eyes. he opens the door and he won’t make me cry. he treats me so good, maman.”
“ma fille, qui est-ce?” my daughter, who is it? pascale asked, her hand coming across to the table to hold yours.
you huffed before answering, “lando. but don’t tell charles yet! he’d lose his mind if he knew. but i’m going to be wearing mclaren orange at the grand prix.”
“c’est marveilleux, y/n!” that’s wonderful! pascale said, smiling brightly at you. “when are you telling tes frères?” your brothers
“soon.” you promised. “real soon.”
“bien, bien,” good, good she pauses before saying, “mclaren orange…charles may not like that.”
“je sais, maman. je sais,” i know, mom. i know. you said laughing. “i’m scared for lando.”
pascale laughed at that. “moi aussi, y/n. but he’ll be okay. charles is going to be happy for you.”
329 notes · View notes
royalsweetteaa · 1 year
Note
Who do you think fits this line
1.
A:id like you to meet my ex boyfreind
B:can you stop it please *to the other person* im a's husband
2.
A: b and i are no longer dating
B:a thats a bad way telling people were getting married
First CE characters that came to mind -
Scenario 1
Tumblr media
Y/N says, “I’d like you to meet my ex boyfriend!”
Ransom groans, and replies, “Can you stop saying that?“ before he turns to the other person and introduces himself, “I’m her husband.”
Scenario 2
Tumblr media
Y/N says, “him and I are no longer dating.”
Andy chuckles, shaking his head as he wraps an arm around her, “that’s a bad way of telling people we’re getting married.”
Tumblr media
N/A: this is something new and I actually enjoyed making this as it’s the easiest thing! But ofc this is just my opinion on which CE character fits the most for these lines. Share your thoughts! <3
151 notes · View notes
krirebr · 4 months
Text
More Than This Masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.
Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, the slooowest burn - See each chapter for individual warnings. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
One
Two
Three
Four
Series in progress
449 notes · View notes
brandycranby · 10 months
Text
literally crawling out of my skin today so here's all the things i want to stim on - ce characters version.
curtis: his wool coat, not my favorite texture to wear but its nice and rough, wanna drape it over my head and be in the dark. 😶‍🌫️ touch the beanie, following the ribs and then running my nails perpendicular so it makes the zz zz sound. his buzzcut and beard, running my hands over that like a fidget toy. shmelling him, big sniffs 🫠
jake: his chin!! his chinny chin chin wanna lay on his chest and put my ear next to his goatee while i play w it ✨️asmr✨️ tattoos tracing 💕 no thoughts only that weird bull/taurus on his shoulder and others he might have picked up in the service. hehe is he ticklish? we'll find out
steve: arm 😐 bichep 😐 chewing him, biting him very gently 😐 i think it'd be ok if i did it kinda hard too idk steebie is tough... a little masochistic maybe... wont mind if i gnaw like the hamster. would also like to sniff snorff, think he would smell very clean like laundry. reset the brain.
ari: beard beard beard beard rub rub rub scratch fluff nuzzle sneef lemme go crazy on him and then get crushed to death with a bear hug please compress all the feeling out of me. smells very good big sniffs 😣 hides in his flannel, no light good
andy: get rid of tie.. and button up 🥺 looking makes me overstimulated. touch the beard, touch the quiff, brushie brushie. lay head on shoulder and be rubbed on the back, sneef sneef the cologne smell in a quiet room 😖
ok thats all the brain power i have in me. gonna go blanket burrito myself and sniff a candle. 💕💕 feel free to reblog and add your own stims.
Tumblr media
96 notes · View notes
emojellyace08 · 4 months
Note
Hi! Big fan of your oneshots. Can I request a female Gojo x lookism men characters. Where Gojo dies and is reincarnated into the popular webtoon Lookism but "HE" became a "SHE". Gojo being gojo causes mayhem wherever she goes and rizzing people especially teasing the students at J-high because she is now their teacher. And Gojo is more chaotic than Goo and I imagine her saying to Gun, "I'm the strongest". Since he reincarnated as a girl and in a world without curse energy he doesn't have any CE but he is still super strong just like the OP characters in the webtoon especially since he's an expert in the martial arts. He still has the six eyes but not as OP and draining he just can see really well than the average person.
Female! Gojo Reader x Lookism Cast!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 (𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐥). 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝)
Tumblr media
In the world filled with infinite possibilities, you wouldn't expect to end up in another universe. You, one of the most (if not) powerful sorcerer in the whole world ends up dying in the hands of Sukuna. And you wouldn't expect to get reincarnated in an ordinary world without curses. Well, that's what you thought at first.
You were first confused at how did you turn into a baby. But lucky for you, your family is part of one of the most wealthiest and powerful Yakuza in Japan. Growing up, you were confused about your identity. Asking your mom if you really turned into the opposite sex. "Ma, can I ask you something?" "Sure darling, what's the matter?" she asked with a sweet tone as she prepares your meal. "Am I really a girl?" "Well, physically you are a girl. But if you feel like not fitting with the other little girls, it's okay if you like masculine toys. But inside of you must be always genuinely kind and is ready to help others without wanting anything in return."
You may still have the familiar sapphire blue eyes, hair fluffy like clouds, skin white as snow, and your personality intact with your female body, you still can't help but to feel weirded out in your early life. Without your powers, you felt the familiar feeling of dread linger through your soul. All the training and physique were wasted because of that monster! But you forced your dad to teach you martial arts. He almost scolded and beaten you up for "disobeying" his rules as you are not fitted to replace his heir. Feeling that familiar burst of pride in your heart that wanted to explode and lash out to him and knowing to yourself that you have LOTS of experience in your past life as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, you trained yourself for years to prove your own father wrong and show him who really is the weak one. Time-skip ahead, you successfully graduated and hired as a teacher for Physical Education knowing that you are body-kinesthetic.
You made your way into the school hallways with your bag. Instead of books for your lessons that you will discuss about, it's filled with sweet treats (and some lip balms to keep yourself ✨sexy, gorgeous, and daring✨. You remember high-school days when many teenage boys at your age often fight outside your house when they used to court you. "Sorry, I'm not attracted to men and girls are really scary! Sheesh people are so cheesy these days!"
Knowing your instincts, you tend to be a bit too friendly with other people as you are excited to annoy another living soul in this earth today. "He~~LLO!" you greeted quite loudly as the poor guy squeaked in surprise at your presence. "WUAH FUCK! Oh, shi- I'm sorry sunsengnim!" (teacher). "Oh, NO WORRIES PAL. You must be new here, right?" you questioned as you introduced yourself to the new student. "Well, I am (*insert female name here*) and according to every men and women that I had rizzed, I'm the most prettiest and sexiest woman and teacher in this country. Well then nice to meet you." you winked as to express your friendliness as he awkwardly shook your pale hands with his sweaty ones. "Ah, I'm sorry for the overflowing enthusiasm. Let's go to your new class for us to meet them!" you chuckled as you ate your mochi, even offering to share Hyung-Seok but he politely declines.
The moment you and Daniel entered the Fashion Department class, everyone's jaws dropped as it almost hit on the floor for dramatic effect. And you know that you weren't wasting their time when you gave all those candies as prizes by making up a warm-up game before classes begins as they are already fond of you! The other boys trying to impress you as you platonically tease them even though you have no romantic attraction on them. And the GIRLS WOULD LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Your hair and eyes also makes them fond of you (especially Zoe since she's a Beauty-Nerd). "OMG ARE YOU AN ANGEL OR SOMETHING?!" she squealed as you let her braid her hair as you relaxed on your chair and placed your legs on the teacher's table despite it being against the rules on free time. The others were doing their own shenanigans as you keep telling them to quiet down. "So, you think I'm hot or something? I'm glad you know. Oh Zack stop abusing Jiho's hand it's just arm wrestling!'
And they also enjoy your performance activities too! Since their courses is all about sewing with those mind-twisting history behind it, of course they will get sleepy and stressed out about it. But being the bold and bright-spirited that you are, you know school won't be fun without a little stretch of your body. So you make sure that whatever you teach them sports will be easily followed, yet you tend to forget to uncomplicate the rules since you're pride and confidence gets in the way at times. Sports and a little bit of martial arts (especially with the boys) are so fun! Being competitive, you taught them not only the basic techniques and skills that all can master. But you also thought them discipline when using it as you also sighed to yourself that you can get a bit cocky when fighting too as the adrenaline keeps chasing you to your high when fighting a strong opponent. You can see Daniel, Zack, heck even Jay taking down notes to this. The other departments are also fond with you as they really idolize you as their teacher (especially The Architecture Department).
But despite having your comedic side, it's rest assured that you are not letting anyone slide whoever tries to mess with you or anyone you know or fond with. The bullies will just stare at you cowardly as you look back at them with your striking cerulean eyes yet they seem uncanny because of your menacing expression. "You little fuckers, didn't your parents told you to not disturb anyone in the way?" "WE'RE SORRY SUNGSENGNIM!"
Yet since your family background is REALLY involved with the gangs (and the 4 major crews as you have minor knowledge around it), you started to get involved with the drama. Not only because you want to protect the innocence of your students as you grew fond over them, but because you tend to get a bit bored on teaching and pissing off your co-teachers. You smirked as the thought of fighting strong opponents excites you.
And you're excitement matches up with the sturdy and powerful fighters in this universe. You even helping out your students to bring down some of the most-feared men in Korea like Jonggun and Jungoo. You even got to flirt with them with a moment before you went face-to-face with the two as you declined their offer as they asked you to be their new member for Charles Choi's success.
"Miss, I'll ask you again. Why is it that you don't want to join our team? Are you so worried about leaving your students?" The black eyed male whispered at your ear as crimson-red blood drips down to his chin as you smirked at the bruise you gave him at the side of his lips. "And for a hottie like you, I didn't expect you to be this strong! So why not join us for a million won and even more?!" the blondie exclaimed as he swung his pipe as his weapon of choice. Him looking around at the building with lots of damage done from your fighting. "First of all, that's three questions. And yes, I have no plans to team up with your shitty team since I like hanging out with my students. And lover boy take note of this, I'M GOING TO SHIT ON YOUR FACE BECAUSE I"M THE STRONGEST!" you maniacally laughed as you landed a kick on Shiro Oni's face once again as he's starting to feel aroused excited about the energy that you're giving him. "If so, then LET'S FUCKING KILL EACH OTHER RIGHT NOW!" he ripped his shirt off as he rushed towards you as you did the same with that smile. "OI YOU'RE FORGETTING ME HERE I'M THE MAIN CHARACTER!" Goo replied as he plans to attack you from the back.
157 notes · View notes
asterias-record-shop · 11 months
Note
I’m so glad you liked the soulmate idea! maybe prompt 16? maybe she gets injured and has to tear off some of her outfit when she gets a little self conscious cause of the cameras and realizing the man everyone wants is now publicly her soulmate? could you imagine that for yourself omfg </3 read that prompt and saw his smirk vividly in my head and I couldn’t get it out lol :) katniss would be slapping him every two seconds and trying to keep him on track lollllll :D
—𓆩[be jealous]𓆪—
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
Tumblr media
𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Soulmate! Finnick Odair x Soulmate! Fem! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.8K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - If there was one thing that the Capitol wasn’t, it was kind. So when they input the law where soulmates cannot be put into the same game, you and Finnick have to come clean about your relationship in the Quarter Quell - even if it’s too late.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - sorry anon, I had to change it up just a bit! || age difference (3 years) || soulmate AU with the same mark || reader is more naive & weak (physically) || Finnick was your mentor || you don’t think you deserve Finnick for a while, he fixes that || insecure reader || virgin reader || you wanted to keep your soulmate-ship a secret (fails miserably) || oral || 69 || slight penetration || cum eating || fingering || hickeys || creampies || cumslut & pussy drunk terms used
Tumblr media
When you were chosen for the games, you thought your fate was sealed. You were going to be brutally murdered, and you would never see the light of day ever again until Finnick became your mentor.
“Look…” he said, inhaling as you both stood in front of the tube that would take you up to the arena. “I know, I know you’re not that strong,” he whispers, thumb slowly stroking your cheek. “But you fucking run, okay? You run, you hide, you just… you need to come out of there alive, okay?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I can, Fin, I just-”
“Y/N,” he says firmly, holding your shoulders. “Please. Please come out. For me.”
You inhale deeply as the Peacekeeper yells out ‘five more minutes’, Finnick leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “Promise me you’ll try.”
Finnick was one of the most perfect people you could’ve ever asked for, so as soon as you saw that mark on his lower abdomen right on his hip bone that matched yours, you promised yourself you’d never let him see it. Not when you were going to die in the arena and he would lose his soulmate, someone he didn’t deserve.
Finnick deserved the world, and in your mind, that wasn’t you.
He was always telling you about people who had pretended to be his soulmate, getting tattoos of his mark just to try and get with him, though they always missed the small dot on the lower left side, the same one you had. He then always added that he never wanted to meet his soulmate, saying things like he didn’t want to burden them with what he’s been through or he didn’t think it’d work out.
You knew he would never burden his soulmate, especially you, but you didn’t want to start anything when you would most likely die.
He always said how he had this connection to you that he couldn’t explain, his eyes always filled with so much love it made you want to cry. It would’ve been a horrible decision to tell him really, but everything he did made you want to say it.
“One minute!”
“Finnick, I just-”
“I'm going to watch every second, darling,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “And I’m going to be with you every moment.”
You nodded, hands shakily squeezing his wrists that cupped your face before starting to step back. You go around him to step onto the platform, slowly stepping inside as Finnick quickly runs onto the platform, pressing his hand to the glass. He inhaled, nodding. “Y-Y/N, I love-”
With that, almost like it was a farewell, your capsule shot up. You emerged in a large field, wheat around you with the center being the classic cornucopia. The numbers started blaring, signaling the beginning of your inevitable demise.
Even then though, you promised Finnick you would try, so you had to. You would run and hide and swim and do everything you could to survive like you promised him, even though you didn’t expect it to gain your victory.
After winning, you couldn’t have taken more showers. Though not physically covered in blood, you felt disgusting, as though all of those deaths were on your hands. You finally stopped when you felt your nails burning, skin almost raw from how much you rubbed it in an attempt to get off the invisible blood, quickly turning around to turn off the water and step out.
You pat your skin down, too scared to irritate it more before putting on some tiny shorts. You really needed to feel the cold instead of warmth like you did all throughout the games and a thin camisole that didn’t hide your soulmate mark. You looked at it in the mirror, the reddish-brown hue making you hum - it was nice to just look at it for a minute instead of hiding it.
It doesn’t take you long to step out, stretching before you notice Finnick sitting on your bed looking starstrucked. “Finnick!”
“Y/N, what the hell is that?”
At first you didn’t know what he was talking about, looking down at the wide gash you had on your forearm. “Oh, the District 1 Career was trying to get a hit in before-”
He stood up abruptly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into his chest, his hand quickly finding its place at your hip. “Is that real?”
You look down, quickly covering the mark. “Y-You… you weren’t supposed to see that.”
You sounded stupid, head hazy as he pressed his finger firmly against it and rubs, gasping when it doesn’t fade or get irritated at his touch. “Did you- why would you keep this from me?”
“Because I thought I was going to die, Finnick,” you inhaled deeply. “I never thought I would see you again. I didn’t want to give you hope-”
“So instead you chose to lie to me and keep the fact that you’re my soulmate and that we could’ve been building a life together? A soulmate bond? How long have you known?” He whispered, leaning down as you looked away.
“Since we started training together.”
He inhaled sharply, letting out a soft whimper as he looked away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought I was going to die,” you explained, holding back tears. “I thought I was going to die and that you were going to be left with hope and I just-” a strangled sob left your mouth as he pulled you into a hug, his lips pressing to your forehead.
“You don’t worry about anything, darling. I promise, I swear,” he pulled away to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I will never let anything happen to you ever again.”
It had been quiet until you both were pulled into the Third Quarter Quell. You volunteered for Mags much to Finnick’s dismay, especially when you both had gotten to the parade.
“It’s too on show, Finnick,” you whisper, trying to lift up your skirt before he swats at your hand. “Finnick!”
“Who cares anymore, darling?” He whispers, pulling you closer. “Why should we hide it, hm? Let everyone know that they should be jealous. I have the most beautiful woman in the world by my side.”
You blushed madly as he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “If they find out, they won’t pull me from the games because they renounced the law,” you whisper, inhaling shakily. “We’re going to get out of there, right? Together?”
He nodded, pushing back your hair. “I swear to you, Y/N, I promise.” He inhaled deeply as the fanfare started, leaning down to press a kiss to your head. “I’ll be right by your side, my love.”
You looked up, nodding as he pushed back your hair, a loud noise making you both look to the side. There Katniss stood, awkward and stick-like as you try to pull away from Finnick on instinct but he just held you tighter. He pulled you away, quickly helping you into the carriage before getting on himself.
“They’re going to have a field day with this,” you say, pulling your skirt a bit lower to expose the mark on your hip. “Might as well give them a show, right?”
He smiled, pulling down his waistband to show off the same mark. “Might as well, darling.”
The news came out sooner than you expected, Finnick pulling you closer to his chest as you sat on his cock. It was peaceful, watching the news a few hours before being dragged into the games. The public was raving about the fact you both were soulmates, and Finnick’s cock that was balls deep inside of you still spurting cum into you as he slowly rolled his hips.
“Want to go again,” he mumbled, his words not a question but a statement. You giggled as he stared at you, eyes hazy and drunk on your cunt. “Please? Can we go again?”
You giggle, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “You just want to fuck because we’re not going to be able to in the games, don’t you?”
He hummed. “Who says we can’t fuck in the games?”
You paused, letting out a soft hum as you started to roll your hips into his. “You’ll just fuck me anywhere, won’t you? Too fucking pussy drunk to think about anything else?”
It was a dangerous game, playing with a more dominant Finnick like this, especially because you were definitely the more submissive person in this relationship. Finnick always felt so fucking good when you acted like this, a sub trying to get more dominant on their dom and tease him, especially when you were on top.
He was going to feed your mind just a bit before he fucked you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.
After processing your words, he nods as he kisses against your shoulder down to the swell of your tits, kissing and licking at your nipple. “Yes, yes darling. I want to fuck you so bad, please, please. I need to feel that pussy clench around me, need to feel your cunt milk my cock baby.”
He watched your eyes roll back, a smirk finding its way to his lips as he teased your nipple with his teeth. He sucks, groaning as you tug on his hair, pulling him closer as his hands hold your waist, forcing you to roll your hips into his and taking pleasure in the whines falling from your lips. “F-Fin, need you to fuck me.”
He pulled away, staring at your hard nipples and swollen areola. He laughs, looking up at you between your tits, eyes glossed over with lust as he pressed his lips to the center of your chest and sucked against your skin. You whined loudly as he leaves bright hickeys ranging from bright pink to dark purple all along your skin; anywhere from your collarbone to your chest to your sides, lifting you off of him to watch your face scrunch in discomfort when his length is pulled out of you.
“No, Finnick, don’t do that!”
It made him laugh; as pussy drunk as he was, you were cock obsessed more than you’d ever admit.
“What? Why not? I need to make room for more of the cum that I’m going to fill you up with.”
He laid you on your bed, pushing his head between your thighs to kiss against your stretched cunt, already pushing his tongue into your pussy to taste the mixed cum flooding into his mouth. He groaned loudly, his hips bucking into the mattress that did little to nothing to relieve him of the need to be inside of you.
He pulled away, face covered in sheen from your lewd juices, the whine that left your lips making him laugh just a bit. He laid back on the bed, humming. “Come here, darling. Want your pussy on my face.”
You nodded, knowing better than to argue with him when he got like this, quickly moving to hover over his mouth. “F-Fin, are you sure, I don’t know if I can-”
“Darling, if you don’t shut up and sit on my face, I won’t fuck you again tonight.” His hand slapping against your ass proved his point even more, a yelp leaving your mouth as you let your body relax and his mouth suck on your leaking cunt. Your eyes rolled back as he groaned, one hand holding the hip with your soulmate mark, his hand tight as the other pushed up your back while pushing you down. The new angle makes you whine loudly, gasping as his cock slaps against your cheek, his leaking tip smearing cum against your skin.
His cock was so pretty in front of you, thick and long, his tip flushed a bright red as cum leaking out, harder than you had ever seen as his hands squeeze at the plushness of your ass. His moans against your cunt made you whine, pulling his cock into your mouth just like he wanted you to.
Your eyes rolled back as he groaned loudly, fingers slipping into your pussy to scrape his cum from your walls, pulling out everything he could to swallow into his mouth. You whine loudly when his fingers get a little rough, pain blooming making his fingers pull away and a quick apology comes from his mouth. He smiled as he softly rubbed against that one area, kissing softly making you whine as you bobbed your head on his cock.
“Better?”
You nodded around his length, jaw slack as you bobbed your head over his cock, groaning as you pulled away. His cock bounced, mixed saliva and cum dripping down his shaft as you whined loudly. “Y-Yes, Fin, just like that!”
He smirks, pushing a finger back into you as he continues to rub that one spot you loved, curling and thrusting his finger inside of you as you pull his cock back into your mouth. You groaned loudly around his length, bobbing your head as fast as you could before pushing your head down and pulling his entire length down your throat.
Your eyes watered as you gagged, rolling back into your head as his hips thrust up into you, one of his hands forcing your head to stay low. You could only groan around his length as he used your mouth like a cock sleeve, thrusting harder and harder into you as his fingers of his other hand curled inside of you, thumb rubbing against your clit.
You pulled your hair out of your face, holding his thighs for some sort of grounding agent as he rammed his cock into your throat, your nose settled against his balls. He was groaning into your cunt, his tongue flicking and pushing into you as wet squelching fills the room, your throat relaxing as he does one last throat to cum down your throat.
He groaned loudly into your cunt, pushing his fingers into you just to hit that one spot that made you come undone around his digits. You gasped as you pulled away, letting out soft coughs as you swallowed, licking around his length before he pulled you off his face.
It makes you yelp as he quickly laid on your body, giggling as you hugged him tightly and pressed kisses to his hair. He mumbled out a soft ‘I love you’ as he pulled away, quickly gaining the same response from you before cleaning you up and pulling you into his chest. “I’m going to get you out of there alive, Y/N.”
You inhale deeply, pressing your face into his neck. “I know you will, Fin.”
It wasn’t until later in the games, where you stood by the tree did you actually doubt his words. A District 10 tribute had come way too close to you, slashing your side with her blade making you strip off half of your suit that Finnick couldn’t keep his eyes off of.
“What? Don’t stop on my account, I’m enjoying the show.” He was definitely enjoying the show, your soulmate mark on display and half of your skin that was covered in hickeys being shown off as well.
You rolled your eyes playfully, Katniss shoving him every few minutes to get him to focus on what they were doing as you attempted to find something to cover yourself. “Y/N, darling, what are you doing?”
“Trying to find something to cover myself up,” you explain quickly, sighing. “I just… feel exposed.”
He comes over, wrapping his arms around you to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m right here, darling. Always. You don’t have to feel exposed, ever.”
You smiled, pulling him in for another kiss. “I know, Fin. Thank you.”
He would stick by your side until Katniss blows out the top of the arena, cradling you under his body and whispering soft reassurances when you’re both lifted up into District 13s aircraft, and mending your side with the medical supplies.
“I promised I would get you out,” he whispers, smiling. “And I promise I’ll keep you safe, forever.”
Tumblr media
omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!
Tumblr media
Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]
Tumblr media
Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪
Tumblr media
© asterias-record-shop
436 notes · View notes
namazunomegami · 7 months
Text
emperor!geto x imperial concubine!reader
Tumblr media
a/n: I’ve spent way too much time to research about chinese imperial concubines, playing with Royal Chaos during my highschool years and I had a boring shift at work. This is the result. Probably out of character as hell but hey, I wrote this for my enjoyment.
This is part 1 of a lil historical AU drabble series. I’m already finished with Sukuna, Gojo is in the works, and I got some ideas for Choso and Toji but don't think too much about it, ideas are just ideas.
I was so close to write reader as gender neutral but reader owns a type of traditional chinese headgear used exclusively by noblewomen so... yeah, reader is afab if you squint (very hard).
Likes and reblogs are appreciated, mwah <3
wc: 1011, I initally wanted a few headcannons but I got a full ass drabble
cw: suggestive, false accusations, implied murder, mentions of whipping, choking (not the kinky kind), yandere behavior
credits: renmakia for the gorgeous fanart and my dear @notveryrussian for proofreading and just putting up with my massive jjk brainrot every day, luv ya darling <33
MDNI, if you do, I'm gonna catch you like I'm gonna catch Gege.
He’s a monarch who considers his mind a weapon and information as a whetstone despite being born in relative peace. Spending his leisure time reading Sun Ce, the scripts of Confucian and Taoist scholars, sharing afternoon teas and long walks around the gardens with Buddhist priests and conversing about reaching enlightenment. As if he desperately wanted to understand how the world he was meant to rule works. His mandate of heaven brought prosperity, a flourishing economy, a strong connection between allied realms, a good education system that produced more scholars than in any other time before.
Competing for his attention is not an easy task. You almost gave up, bracing yourself for a long and uneventful life where you can only admire him from afar. You sit in the shade of a willow tree with a board of xiangqi, your playmate having left you not so long ago and you were trying to figure out which tactics and strategies they should’ve used to defeat you. You’re so lost in your thoughts you can’t notice him standing there, in the presence of his guards. You kowtow to him, excusing yourself for daring to bother him, pleading for his patience while you pack your things and leave. He likes that your manners are spot on, and he rewards you with a command to stay, to play with him, since xiangqi is a game between two people. And based on the positions of the pieces on the board you’re an experienced player.
Of course, he defeats you with ease, but he’s grateful you showed him everything you’ve got and didn’t let him win. He tells you that his victory lies in applying the teachings of Sun Ce to his playstyle. Your eyes light up and you beg him to elaborate further, maybe he can help you improve your tactics in the next game. He’s such a well-read man, so hungry for knowledge, so desperate to understand people. You’re sure he wants to figure out your thoughts too, what you think about the world, what values dominate your heart. And the secret to win him over is to shower him with all the details and even politely disagree with some of his beliefs and explain your point of view. That’s what gets him going, knowing your place in the hierarchy but not being afraid to stand your ground. Mindless obedience, at this point, bores him. That’s probably the reason why he slowly starts to favor you, your conversations refresh him, inside and outside of his bedchambers.
You may think that earning your place in his heart is a lengthy and hard process, but when he becomes sure that your infatuation comes from an honest place, he generously rewards your efforts. He showers you with gifts, each more thoughtful than the other. He sends you scripts from his personal library about topics that interest you, fulus he received from his priests to protect you and your chambers, phoenix crowns so elaborately adorned with pearls, sapphires, small dragons, and phoenixes made from solid gold. Gowns embroidered with clouds, cranes dancing around them, gifting you a small piece of the sky itself he descended from. He elevates your rank quickly so you can accompany him during events. Letting the whole court look at you, wrapped in everything he gave you, standing so close you can see him stealing glances at you from under the twelve tasseled crown. He rewards your family with money, grain, rice, political power. If he lifts you up, he does the same with everyone important to you.
But Geto’s court is highly competitive. It’s certainly not easy to be his favorite. You can literally smell the stench of jealousy eminating from the other consorts. Their gaze pierces your skin deeply when the eunuchs drag you around the Palace of Heavenly Grace with a brocade blanket hugging your naked figure. They must endure the sight every other night and they have no idea that the son of heaven is ready to serve you and do as you please behind closed doors and not the other way around, as tradition dictates.
Though he can comfort you, outside of his chambers you fear for your life. You needed a food taster now and never dared to walk the gardens without at least four guards in your proximity. You begin to doubt the trust between you and those you’ve befriended, because they can only blame you for his negligence towards them.
And then, the first accusation about you begins circulating around the palace. Some concubines claimed that you were guilty of witchcraft. So many of them are against you, with so much made-up proof you cannot do more than spend the night crying, believing that at dawn, guards will come for you and throw you into a well. You have no idea where Geto is or how you could beg him for protection.
The next day, strangely, a new set of officials deem you innocent. What boggles you even more is that he comes to your residence instead of having you delivered to him. Even his scent is not like it usually is, there’s something metallic, salty, and musky mixed in with the incense smoke.
That night he cradles you, shushing you, promising to keep you safe at all costs. Keeping it a secret how brutally he disposed of the rumor mongers, how he had some of his officials whipped bloody for not believing your testimony or about the thinly veiled threats that he’ll make anyone’s life a living nightmare if anything happened to you. Your heart skips a beat and simultaneously sinks deep in your chest when those of higher rank than you lower their head, trying their best to not look at you as they pass you by. With dark marks staining the skin below the neckline of their gowns, not even the empress consort being an exception.
It's not easy to be his favorite. It’ll never be easy.
But he’s a god, the son of heaven, and heaven will forgive him and so will you.
254 notes · View notes
svltzmans · 8 months
Note
nsfw hope headcanons? 🫢
hope mikaelson x fem! reader ńsfw headcanons <3
a/n: omg hi! this is my first request like this so i'm sorry if it sucks 😭 i feel like i made this way kinkier than it had to be but hey this is tumblr right? thanks for the request darling
disclaimer: any writing i do for any character, nsfw or not, takes place when they are 18 or older
warnings: EXPLICIT content ahead, 18+ only pleasseeee. slight degradation, use of the word "slut", etc.
Tumblr media
hope is a major tease, in every sense of the word
she gets off on driving you crazy in every way she can
purposefully wearing clothes that extenuate her body in front of you
bending over near you as much as she can
lingering touches
whispering in your ear
you know, the works
she also would definitely do this in public too
(discretely of course)
when you're out with her and your friends she'll innocently sit on your lap
but she'll be moving her hips juuuust enough so you can feel it
hope picked up some french when she was visiting new orleans and she likes to use it to her advantage
and by to her advantage, i mean she uses it for dirty talk of course
y'all will just be out shopping or doing whatever and she'll lean in close to you and whisper
tu as l'air si chaud, j'ai hâte de rentrer.
vous êtes tous à moi, non?
je veux enlever ces vêtements.
but she doesn't stop teasing after foreplay bc that would just be unlike her!
hope is definitely the type to touch you for hours and hours
and the only times she stops are the times that you're close
she just keeps you on edge for as long as she can and listens to you beg
bc she loves that
her favorite is when you say her name all out of breath
"h- h-ope... please..."
yeah she loves that
eventually she takes her hand out of your underwear
and before you can even start begging for her to put it back,
she's between your legs, working on making you naked from the waist down
hope is obsessed with eating you out
obsessed is an understatement actually
any opportunity she has to put her mouth on you, she will
and she is insanely good at it
she had no experience before she started dating you, so it came to her naturally
(no pun intended)
she brings you to orgasm at an almost ridiculous pace
she's just that good that it never takes longer than a few minutes
especially after she's kept you on edge for so long
hope is such a sweet talker in bed
but at the same time she is so filthy
she'll go from "you're so beautiful baby girl"
to "you gonna cum for me again huh? that's it, fucking slut"
she's only really that vulgar sometimes but when she is... she gets intense
but she's not always so dominant
she's actually the definition of a switch
she would like for you to just have your way with her sometimes
touching her in any way you want (with pre-established consent of course)
she is definitely loud when you do
she has the most beautiful moans and whimpers
and she LOVES to praise
"fuck y/n... that feels so good"
"you're doing so well baby"
and of course you give her a taste of her own medicine and leave her begging too
"y/n please don't stop, i'm so close"
and you would stop ofc
THIS IS SO MUCH LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE Y'ALL I GOT IN MY THOUGHTS
171 notes · View notes