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racinggirl · 9 months ago

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that's my girl

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼

‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.

‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.

‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.

‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.

‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.

‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.

Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.

You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.

However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.

You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.

It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.

‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.

‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.

You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.

‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’

‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.

‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’

‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’

‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’

‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’

You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.

He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.

As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.

You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.

The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.

‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.

‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’

‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’

He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.

After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.

‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’

You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.

‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’

Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.

The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.

‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.

Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.

Later that season

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chloewriteswhenshewantsto · 5 months ago

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Afterglow

Authors Note: It’s me. Hi. I’m back with another attempt at “writing”. This is an angsty one this time. I felt I should learn to write something that pulls at the heartstrings. I hope this doesn’t disappoint.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Period Specific Sexism

Word Count: 2.9K

Anthony looks up from his desk, rubbing his tired eyes as he calls out a gruff. "Who is it?"

The rain outside continues to batter the windows, the sound muffled but still audible through the thick oak door of his office.

Anthony's expression softens immediately as he sees you standing in the doorway. He smiles, setting down his pen and pushing himself away from the desk.

"Love, what are you doing up at this hour?" he asks, his tone gentle as he looks over to you. "You should be in bed."

“I couldn’t fall asleep without you.” you admit sheepishly. “The bed doesn’t feel the same without you in it.”

Anthony's smile widens, his heart swelling with a tender affection as he hears your admission. He steps closer to you, his hands coming up to tenderly frame your face.

"You know I'd rather be in bed with you too, darling," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with tiredness. "But the ledgers won't balance themselves, I'm afraid."

“Surly you can do them in the morning, you’ve been working so hard lately, my love.”

Anthony lets out a weary sigh, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as he holds your gaze.

"You know I'd love nothing more, sweetheart," he admits, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "But there's so much work to do. I've been neglecting my duties, thanks to our trip to the country"

“You have been in here all day, it is past midnight surly you can rest now.” you say frustratedly. Your husband is a hard worker, but the dark circles under his eyes betray him. He needs to rest.

Anthony flinches slightly at the tone in your voice, the frustration in your words evident. He lets out another sigh, his hands dropping from your face and going to his hips.

"I know I've been working late, darling," he says, his voice quieter now. "But there's just so much to do. The ton relies on me to keep the estate running smoothly, and with the ball coming up, there's so much to prepare for-"

“Then let me help you lighten the load, I might not know how to balance the books but teach me I am a quick learner. Surly two heads will be better than one.” you say, pleading with your husband to let you help ease his burden.

It is not a woman’s job to deal with finances, you know this, and your husband is a proud man that will want to take the pressure off everyone but himself. You can only hope that he is too tired to argue with you tonight.

Anthony hesitates for a moment, torn between his natural instinct to handle everything himself and the desire to please you.

"Darling, it's not your job to help me with all this," he starts hesitantly, his gaze flickering between you and the papers scattered on his desk. "I'm supposed to take care of everything, that's my responsibility as the viscount-"

“And what of my responsibility as your wife?” you interrupt him sharply. “Is it not part of my duties to help you when you are struggling.”

Anthony falls silent for a moment, your sharp words cutting through the air like a knife. He looks at you carefully, his expression a mixture of surprise and contemplation.

"Of course it is," he admits quietly, his shoulders deflating a fraction. "Be that as it may, these are things that I'm supposed to handle, sweetheart. The estate, the financial planning-"

“I wish to help, I wish to spend time with my husband outside this office!” you frustratedly plea.

Anthony's expression darkens, his shoulders tensing as he struggles to keep his own temper in check.

"You know I wish I could spend more time with you, darling," he snaps back.

"You think I don't want that too?" he retorts, his voice rising slightly. "You think I enjoy spending every waking moment in this damn office, bogged down by paperwork and figures? But it's my job, my responsibility-"

Anthony continues to rant, his frustration and exhaustion getting the better of him as he snaps at you.

"I don't need another problem to deal with. I don't need you hovering over me, trying to help, when I'm the one who has to carry the weight of this estate on my shoulders. You're already distracting me enough as it is."

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep.

"You need to stop being so bloody needy!" he snaps, his tone sharp and frustrated. "I'm doing the best I can, but there's only so much I can handle! You're asking me to do the impossible. Besides, what on earth could you possibly know about running an estate? All you know is dresses and tea parties and silly little gossip rings, you don't know the first thing about what I’m going through-"

Anthony immediately regrets his words the moment they leave his mouth, his eyes widening in alarm as he realizes the damage his words have done. His lack of sleep and his patience that has been holding on by a thread that has finally snapped.

The words hang in the air like a poison, their harshness cutting deep into your heart.

Anthony's face softens immediately as he sees the tears welling up in your eyes. His anger and frustration disappear, replaced by regret and guilt as he realizes the impact of his words.

"Wait, darling, I didn't-" he starts, reaching out a hand towards you.

“I am sorry I didn’t realise I was another problem that you had to deal with, my lord.” you say stonily, taking a step back from his reach. “I shall leave you be.”

Anthony winces at your formal address, the coldness in your tone cutting through him like a knife.

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant-" he tries to explain, his voice filled with remorse.

Anthony stands there, frozen, as the door swings shut behind you. The sound of the rain outside is suddenly deafening, drowning out the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears.

"Shit," he mutters, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. "I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean it...fuck." he curses out, swiping the papers of his desk in anger.

Anthony storms over to the corner of the office, pouring himself a generous glass of whiskey. He downs it in one gulp before pouring himself another, the whiskey burning its way down his throat and into his stomach. He paces the room, his mind a maelstrom of guilt and self-recrimination.

Anthony spends most of the night in his office, drowning himself in paperwork and the bottle of whiskey by his side. He tries to focus on the figures in front of him, but his mind keeps drifting back to you.

He can still hear the echo of your hurt and angered voice in his ears, the way you'd shut the door behind you with a sharp click. It pains him how callous and cold he'd been to you, how he'd let his frustration spill out in the worst possible way…

As the first rays of sunlight start to filter through his office windows, Anthony finally falls asleep at his desk, head resting on his arms, his dreams plagued with visions of you. Countless apologetic notions fill his thoughts, he will make things better. He has too.

———————————————————————

Anthony groans, as daylight makes its way through his office windows. Lifting his head off the desk, memories of last night come rushing back, and with them, the sharp pang of guilt. His head is pounding from the liquor, his neck aching from the awkward position he slept in. He sits up, rubbing his temples with a weary groan, the events of the previous night playing over in his mind on repeat.

"Bloody hell," he mutters to himself, shoving a hand through his disheveled hair.

Anthony spots a maid walking down the hall as he emerges from his office, his expression still weary and guilt-ridden. He stops her, and with a gruff in his voice from tiredness, he asks her.

"Excuse me, have you seen my wife this morning? Where is she?"

The maid, a young woman with a cheerful smile, gives Anthony a puzzled look as he stops her in the hallway.

"Good morning, my lord," she says, a little taken aback by his weary and disheveled appearance.

Anthony runs a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it but failing.

“I have not seen the viscountess this morning, my lord. Would you like me to check with the other maids on her whereabouts?” she respectfully responds.

His heart sinks at the maid's response. He had hoped that he would find you wandering the halls, ready for him to apologize and make things right. But instead, he is left with a sense of confusion and growing dread as to your whereabouts.

"Yes, please. Anything you can find out would be greatly appreciated. I need to speak with her urgently." he says tiredly.

The maid nods her head in understanding as Anthony dismisses himself to ascends the stairs with a heavy heart, his mind still spinning with guilt and worry. As he reaches the door to his bedroom, he hesitates for a moment, taking a deep breath as he mentally prepares himself to face you.

He quietly pushes the door open, peering into the bedroom to see if you are there.

Anthony's heart drops as he sees that the bed is still made and empty. You are nowhere to be found, and he immediately starts to panic.

"Damn it, where is she?" he mutters, stepping further into the room as he looks around frantically trying to find clean clothing to change into.

Stepping out of his room, Anthony runs through the hallways of the estate, calling out your name frantically as he looks in every room and corridor, his footsteps echoing loudly. He checks the library, the study, the drawing room, anywhere he can think of where you might be, but you are nowhere to be found.

"Damn it, where are you?" he repeats, his voice ragged and desperate. "Please, love, where are you?"

As Anthony is running through the estate, he is stopped by a staff member who approaches him urgently. His eyes immediately snap to theirs, a flicker of hope and desperation in his gaze.

"What is it? Where is she?" he asks urgently, his voice betraying his anxiety.

Anthony listens intently to the staff member's words, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears the words "gardens". Without a moment's hesitation, he spins on his heel and takes off in that direction, his steps quick and determined.

Anthony's heart stutters in his chest as he sees you, tucked away in a tranquil corner of the gardens, reading a book. Relief floods through him, but it is quickly replaced by guilt and worry. He pauses, watching you for a moment, his eyes taking in your figure, the sight of you a balm to his weary heart.

Taking a deep breath, he steels himself and starts to walk towards you. Your eyes meet his, and he is struck by the sight of you, sitting there under the tree, reading like nothing had happened between you. His heart clenches in his chest, and he opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he says, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

“I suppose so, if you are not too busy that is.” you dryly respond looking up at him.

Anthony flinches slightly at the cold tone in your voice, but he doesn't blame you for being angry. He takes a seat on the grass next to you, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion and regret.

"I am never too busy for you," he replies softly, his gaze fixed on yours. "I... I wanted to talk to you, to apologize for last night."

Your expression does not give him hope that this will be an easy conversation for them to have. Feeling nervous he gestures towards the book in your lap, his expression softening.

"May I ask what you're reading?" he inquired, his voice quieter now, almost nervous.

“It is a book on mathematics, I thought it would be smart to fill my brain with things other than dresses and endless gossip.” you respond hitting back at him for his earlier words.

He winces at your words, his shoulders visibly tense as he absorbs the sting in them. He knows he deserves it, after everything he said to you last night. But still, the reminder of his careless words hurts.

"I deserved that," he admits quietly, his eyes downcast. "And I am sorry, for what I said yesterday. It was careless and cruel, and I didn't mean it, truly. You are not another problem, love. You are my partner, my wife. I was just... frustrated, overwhelmed."

Releasing a sigh you meet his eyes. You can see how tired he looks, how vulnerable.

“I know that, which is why I wanted to help. I never meant to become another issue that you had to deal with when you are already so busy.”

Anthony's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes. He reaches out a hand, tentatively resting it on your knee.

"You are not an issue," he says firmly. "You are the furthest thing from it. I was out of line, love, and I'm sorry. I... I should have let you help, should have been grateful that you cared enough to ask. I know how difficult it is for you, sitting at home while I'm stuck in that office day in and day out."

“You hurt me you know, with your words,” you say sadly. “I went to bed alone last night and I cried for what seemed like hours. Then I thought of how angry I was with your stubbornness, so I woke up this morning and went straight to the library because as much as I am upset with you I still love you too much to see you end up in an early grave because you worked yourself to death.”

Anthony's heart clenches as he hears your words, knowing he is the cause of your pain. He lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening on your knee as he hangs his head in shame.

"I know," he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. "And I don't blame you for being angry with me, I was a fool for saying those things to you. You have no idea how much I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. I hurt you, and for that, I am truly sorry. Tell me how can I make it better."

“If you wish to make things up to me you may sit with me and teach me what you know of accounts. I do not wish to have this argument again so I wish to know so I may lend a hand when you truly need it.”

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at your suggestion, but he quickly composes himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He nods slowly, his hand still resting on your knee, a warm and reassuring presence.

"I'd be happy to teach you," he says softly. "And I promise, I will never be that careless again, love. I'll ask for your help next time, I swear it."

“Hmmm, you better.” you gently smile at him. “Also if I am to help you I would like a desk. A large one.”

Anthony chuckles weakly at your request, a mix of relief and amusement at your stubbornness. He nods, his gaze fixed on you.

"Of course, love. You'll have your very own desk, right next to mine. And I'll make sure to explain everything to you, I promise."

You lean over to kiss him gently. Placing a hand on his cheek. You can never stay mad at him for long you blame his face.

“You know if we are to spend more time together in your office, we might need to think of a way to destress after all our hard work.”

Anthony raises an eyebrow at your words, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Oh, and what do you suggest we do to... 'destress', love?" he asks, his voice dropping lower, a hint of something dark and suggestive in his tone.

“Hmmm something like this prehaps.” you say as you climb upon his lap giggling.

Anthony's breath hitches as you climb onto his lap, and he instinctively puts his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. His eyes darken with desire as he looks up at you, a smirk on his lips.

"I like the way you think, love," he laughs, his hands traveling up your waist.

The staff can't help but overhear the sound of laughing and joyous voices coming from the gardens, and a wave of relief washes over them. After all, witnessing the viscount and viscountess argue and bicker wasn't a comforting sight for them. As they continue about their work, they can't help but feel glad that the tension between you and Anthony has been lifted, replaced instead by playful banter and laughter. A happy couple suited the viscount and viscountess a far lot better than a bickering one.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton #taylor swift #lover #afterglow #taylor swift lyrics

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roxineedstosleep · 9 months ago

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Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

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missnxthingg · 1 month ago

Text

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑤𝑜)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We're close to an ending 😭 I really hope this is a preview of real life, because I NEED to see Lando win this year. Also, don't forget to check part one and the original chapter of the story.

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 1

landonorris

Marina Bay, Abu Dhabi

landonorris One last challenge this year, this time with the entire family by my side ❤ LFG!

yourusername Avengers, assemble!

↪landonorris Ur such an idiot, I love you ↪yourusername Learned it from the best

maxfewtrell Good to be here, brother

username1 Ollie is here! Omg, daddy Lando content incoming

username2 This is so cute! They are all reunited to see if he's going to be a world champion

↪username3 praying for it to work! He deserves it so much ↪username4 just the fact that they are all there for him makes me sob 😭 they are so cute

yourusername added to their stories

Caption: One more sleep until the big day

f1 LANDO NORRIS IS YOUR 2024 WORLD CHAMPION!

tagged: landonorris

username1 oh my god, we got to see lando win his first race and first championship in the same year

username2 him as a world champion was NOT on my bingo card back in january

username3 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO

username4 LAST RACE KING, WE DID IT!

yourusername YES! 🧡 that's my man

↪username5 the best wag we have now! ↪username6 THE KISS YOU SHARED AFTER THE RACE, OMG! ↪username7 please lando ask her hand in marriage soon 🙏

yourusername

yourusername Everybody knows I'm not someone to give off big ass texts on the internet, especially for something I've been particularly saving for myself for a really long time. But today is a special day, and I couldn't wait until I wrote this open letter to you.

Lando, my world champion, I remember the first time we ever met. I was barely anything about a mere intern on the social media team, and you still didn't have a single hair on your face. Look at how far we've come.

This win will forever be unforgettable. You deserve every moment of glory and happiness from all the hard work you've been doing for this. You're the world's best boyfriend and godfather. Ollie and I love you very much, and we are beyond proud of you. We'll always have your back. And we'll always be here to cherish, cheer and take care of you.

Proud to be LN4 and papaya on the heart 🧡

tagged: landonorris

comments are limited

landonorris My love, this is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for me. I love you and I'm so glad to have you and Olivia in my life. To many more conquests in our lives from now on.

landonorris

landonorris Celebrated it properly ❤ A little party never killed nobody

tagged: yourusername

username1 I'm glad to see DJ Lando didn't die when he became a boyfriend

↪username2 we all know he'll never stop partying ↪username3 maybe we'll see more of y/n out partying with him from now on

username4 Living for the second picture omg

username5 the love of his life, truly

yourusername Same place and same reason to celebrate next year?

↪landonorris Bet

yourusename

London, England

yourusername Future world champion in the making. First classes: road driving

tagged: landonorris

landonorris I need someone to carry on my legacy in the future

↪yourusername Your F1 goat!

username1 now that he's world champion, time to teach someone else to be that as well

username2 Back to his family ❤

↪landonorris The best place in the world

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

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lila-went-missing · 9 months ago

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I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.

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cyberrose2001 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi hi! Your op drawings are so good?? My bby aaa drawing him (bots in gen) is so tough, I get too caught up in the details TT

Anyway, since I miss him lol I was wondering if I could request some... uh, gosh I hate this word but idk anything synonymous. Could I request pussydrunk tfp op?

Hope you're having a nice day/night btw <3

- 🍄

TFP pussydrunk!Optimus x reader

Hi hello!!I am very proud of this and it's probably up there with my list of my favourite fics I have ever written. Thank you so much for requesting and liking my silly sketches of the blorbo. I've written this as gender neutral <3

(lowkey ive been writing heaps of OP eating pussy,,, its a canon event for me i cannot intervene..... anyway its 11AM and i havent slept yet but i needed to finish hggggh *dies of horny*)

Warnings: Oral sex (reader receiving), edging, reader has a vagina.

Word count: 657

18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI

Spending time alone with you has learned to be one of Optimus' most treasured past times. But as much as it pains him, relaxing with you is a rare treat. The usual business of the base either keeps him up all night, or he genuinely has no time. However, he tries his best to make the most of it, whether he's relaxing with you, cuddling you, or with his head glued between your inner thighs.

Like right now. It was nearing two AM. Optimus has you sprawled out on your shared berth, his face pressed against your aching heat, finally finding sweet relief from his built-up arousal. It's been too fragging long since his face was buried in you. He misses it, and if Optimus had a choice, he would sacrifice everything he's worked for to keep you bare before him.

Two hours. Optimus had been lazily lapping at you for two hours now. At one point, his helm had lulled to the side to rest against your right inner thigh to not strain his neck. His glossa grows tired, and his energon roars through his hot frame.

His stamina is almost depleted compared to when he initially delved into your drenched pussy. Despite this, Optimus still has the capacity to tightly grip your hips, gently massaging them as you lie still for him. He is weary, yet he perseveres, ignoring his aching joints and pulsing spike painfully pressed against the berth because tonight is about you. He will make up for all those lonely nights you've spent in berth alone in one lengthy oral session.

It's very often that when Optimus gives you oral, his mind feels like he's been transported to a higher plane of existence, one where he has no responsibilities or obligations to lead a team, just the mind-numbing taste of you. It makes him dizzy and light-headed, similar to the buzz he gets when he has a high grade or two, but Optimus prefers revelling in you instead to get his high.

As ever patient as you are with your star-crossed lover, your hips still gently roll and shudder involuntarily against his glossa, and Optimus fucking loves it. He loves your soft cries when he sucks on your clit, and he loves when you clamp your legs around his helm when your orgasm is merely within reach. But he won't let you finish just yet, not when he's yet to relish and thoroughly drown himself in your sticky sweet.

His warm optics remain lazily trained on your face, only fluttering close when you squeeze his helm. The pressure from your thighs only heightens his hunger, a carnal desire to swallow every drop of your aphrodisiac juices.

"Mmmmm," You mewl, sweaty palms digging into the berth, "Fuck, I missed this… why don't we do this - aah - more often, baby…."

Optimus doesn't respond, and he can't because his processor is so intoxicated and aroused that he can't even form a single coherent sentence. It's quite ironic, he thinks. A mech of his nature that is so poised and articulate in his vocable is conned by his own desperate need to surrender his intake to his humans' essence.

"Mmmffh," He purrs into your heat, parting your sensitive lips with his glossa, lazily swirling around your bud before pressing a gentle kiss against it. He can't help but grind his spike into the berth below at your whimpers, servos kneading into your soft flesh, "More… Primus, I need more…."

You titter breathlessly, snaking a hand to the top of his helm to lightly press his face further into your pulsing heat, and Optimus delightfully grunts. You shiver, biting back a moan at the vibrations, "Go ahead, hun, you've got me for the rest of the night."

Optimus may need to blow a hole into the sun to prevent it from rising, since one night will never be enough to satisfy his thirst for you.

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers x reader #tfp optimus #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime x reader #tfp x reader smut #valveplug #smut #cyberrosewrites

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accioscarheadthings · 3 months ago

Note

Hi I hope your doing good!♡

I was wondering if you could do a kenji × female reader. But the reader is in the military and is surprising him by coming back early. I've been watching to many coming home videos of soldiers coming home and I got the idea! You can pretty much do anything you want with it but mabey you could do where the reader suprises him at a game.

Thanks so much!♡

hii love. yes i'm great. sorry abt the wait. i was caught up with volleyball practice and college. here you go. i hope you enjoyy<33

No more Goodbyes

kenji sato x fem!military!reader

warning: mentions of insecurities, nightmares, scars and wounds, mentions of love-making session, fluff, [not proofread!!] summary: you surprise kenji at a game by coming back home early

kenji missed you desperately, as you had been away fulfilling your duties as a devoted soldier in the military.

you had been deployed, and kenji had been counting the days until you would come back home safely.

his heart ached every time you left for your military duties. he hated being separated from you, but at the same time, he was proud of your commitment to the country.

when you could arrange video calls, kenji made sure to make the most of the time you had together.

you would spend hours talking, catching up on each other's lives, and enjoying each other's company. he always looked forward to these moments, when he could see your face and hear your voice, even if it was through a screen.

but despite his worries, kenji never let his fears show to you. instead, he was your rock, always there to offer words of encouragement and support.

he knew that you relied on him for strength, and he was determined to be the partner you needed.

when you finally returned from your missions, kenji never let you go. he would hold you close, his hands tracing over your body, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself that you were really there, safe and sound.

the moments you spent together were precious, and kenji treasured every single one. he would spend hours upon hours exploring and learning every inch of your body, committing it to memory as if it were a holy hymn. every touch and caress was filled with a sense of reverence, as he savored the feeling of your skin against his own.

he made love slowly, taking his time to explore and rediscover your body.

his hands roamed over your body, tracing gentle patterns over your skin, and finally interlacing with yours, pinning them to the sides of your head, "i've missed this," he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion, "I've missed you so much,"

you would bracket your legs around his torso, yearning for his touch, "me too," you panted.

kenji smiled against your neck, mouthing a kiss there. his body was pressed against yours, his weight pinning you to the bed. he angled his hips against yours, causing you to let out a gasp of pleasure. kenji chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "i love the noises you make, my love,"

he would ask you about your missions, listening intently as you recounted the dangers you had faced. despite the horrors you had witnessed, he never judged or criticized.

kenji simply held you close, offering comfort and support in the only way he knew how. he could see the toll your job took on you, the weight of your experiences etched into your expressions and actions.

every time you visited him, you would come back with healing wounds and scars. kenji would ask stories about them, tracing them with the tip of his fingers, committing them to memory.

"and this one?" he asked, his voice soft and curious when he reached the one on the softness of your belly.

you cringed slightly, feeling embarrassed as you remembered the scar's origin, "that one is a bad memory," you mumbled, ducking your head in embarrassment.

kenji leaned in and placed a tender kiss on the scar, his lips lingering on your skin, as if he was trying to soothe the pain of the memory.

you looked down at him, feeling a wave of bashfulness under his intense gaze. his eyes were saying a thousand 'I love you's' all at once.

but no matter how tired or weary he was after his games, kenji was always there. he was patient and understanding, never pushing you to talk or open up if you weren't ready. he knew that you needed time to process your experiences, and he was more than willing to wait patiently until you were ready to share.

he would hold you through your nightmares, stroking your hair and whispering reassurances until you finally calmed down. he would listen to you when you needed to vent, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on.

you would feel so guilty to weigh him down like that. as a professional baseball player, he needed his daily sleep and you were hindering it. you got so fed up with how you were leaching on his time and shrunk into yourself in shame. it had got to the point where you had asked him if he wanted to break up with you and be with someone else.

kenji had you curled on his lap, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. when you voiced your thoughts, he sat up straight, pulling you to frown down at you.

"what do you mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with hurt, "why would I ever want to date someone else? I love you," kenji's expression softened, his eyes filled with sadness and understanding. he can see the doubt and hurt in your eyes, and it shattered his heart.

"well," you wrung your hands on your lap, hanging your head low, "i hate how much i keep pulling you down. how much i ruin your sleep, how much i put you at risk of breaking your heart. i feel like," you grimaced, "like I'm not worth all of those. all that effort,"

kenji took your face in his hands, his touch gentle and tender as he guided your gaze to his, "you idiot," he said softly.

your lips twisted into a pout and you glared at him slightly.

kenji pressed a soft smooch to your lips, mouth dominating and wiping the frown off your face.

he slung your leg over his lap, making you straddle him, palms splayed on your lower back.

"i don't care about any of that. i don't care that you're not here all the time. i don't care that there's a risk you might not come back," he shuddered lightly, as though he didn't want to think about the idea of such an occurrence, "all i care about is being with you, no matter what," he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "you're worth it to me," he murmured, "you're worth the wait, the worry, the uncertainty. i love you. and i'll always love you. i will never give up on us, and i will keep coming back to you because you are the only one I want to be with, "

you inhaled shakily, a comforting warmth blooming in your chest as he spilled his heart to you, his words chased away your doubts.

you hugged him tightly, arms around his frame while your face buried in the crook of his neck.

now, kenji was in the chaninging room after a game, swiping through his photos he had with you. he stopped at one particular one, his favourite one:

in the picture, kenji was sitting on a couch, his arms wrapped around you as you sat on his lap. his head was turned towards you, his teeth gently biting your cheek in a playful gesture of affection. you were smiling widely at the camera, your eyes sparkling with laughter.

kenji missed you more than words could say. the months apart from you had been torture, and the only thing that had kept him going was the thought of seeing you again. every day, he longed for your touch, your smile, your laugh, your presence.

"hey, sato! over here!"

kenji was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard his teammate call out to him. he stood up, pocketing his phone and turned to look, expecting to see one of his fellow players.

but instead, he froze in shock when he saw you standing there, a smile on your face.

"hi baby," you beamed at him, thoroughly enjoying his reaction. you were still in your military uniform, you took off your cap, letting a few strands of hair fall to the side of your face.

kenji stood there, frozen in disbelief, "shut up. no way,"

months of separation had made it feel like a lifetime since he had last seen you, and now, here you were, wearing your military uniform, a smile on your face.

his teammates, knowing how miserable he had been without you, erupted in cheers and hollering for the pair of you.

but kenji didn't notice. his focus was entirely on you, as he tried to process that you were really there, standing in front of him.

his expression quickly shifting from surprise to disbelief and then to pure joy.

he dropped his helmet and gloves and surged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. In a swift motion, he picked you up, causing your legs to instinctively wrap around his torso.

ripping his gloves off his hands in a hurry, he charged at you in an embrace, sweeping you off your feet and wrapping your legs around his torso.

the room erupted in cheers and hollering for the pair of you, adoring the sight of you both reunited. even his teammates knew that he was miserable without you.

kenji held you tightly against him, his heart pounding with relief and excitement. he buried his face in your shoulder, inhaling your scent and relishing the feel of your body against his. his grip was firm and possessive.

he had been counting down the days until your return, longing for the moment he would be able to see your face again.

"are you really here?" he muttered against you, "i'm not hallucinating, am i?"

you could feel his tears soaking through your uniform, "no," you laughed, blinking quickly as tears began to gather in your eyes.

kenji squeezed you tighter, his voice wavered in a sob when he spoke, "i missed you so much,"

you felt your heart tug at his vulnerability, and you curved into his body, "me too. me too kenji," you sighed, letting his warmth engulf you.

the rest of the giants team had dispersed to give you both the privacy you needed and now you were all alone with the love of your life.

you rested your hands on his shoulders, "i saw you play today. you were unbelievable!"

kenji's glassy eyes were sparkling with pure joy, his gaze expectant and eager for your opinion, "you did?"

"yes!" you held his face in your hands, "and you were a menace!" you cooed, resting your forehead against his and kissing the tip of his nose, "I'm so proud of you,"

kenji closed his eyes, adjusting you in his arms, and grazed one palm down the length of your leg, while the other held you up by your ass.

"how long can you stay?"

you grinned, "forever,"

kenji's eyes snapped open, "what,"

"i'm home now," you spoke, kissing his forehead, "I'm done with my service,"

"so that means no more goodbyes?"

"no more goodbyes," you promised, raking a hand through his bangs.

kenji's lips wobbled, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he pressed kisses all over your face, "i'm gonna marry you. and m'gonna make you so happy," he mumbled into your neck, his accent thick," i'm going to spend every day showing you how much i love you. every day. s'my only job from now. okay?" his voice wavered as he breathed you in.

you nodded, unable to hold back the tears that were streaming down your face, "okay," you repeated, your voice shaking as you tried to hold back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you, legs nearly giving out from the rush of emotions.

the moment hung heavy in the air, both of you acutely aware of the weight of those words.

kenji held you tighter, his grip firm and unwavering as he held you close, as if to make a promise that he would always keep his word.

#ultraman rising #ken sato x reader #kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x reader fluff #ultraman rising x reader #emi ultraman #ultraman #accioscarheadthings

232 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 1 year ago

Text

tour guide 🎥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!actress!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: saw the post abt apex filming at silverstone this week and got this idea lol lmk what u guys think! atp you already know who my fc is (it's hailee steinfeld 😝)

about: a well-known actress stars in a film that is set in the world of formula 1 and scuderia ferrari happens to be the leading team to guide the production team and its cast!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, madelyncline, and 1,249,247 others

yourusername Film prep starts now. Currently glad my parents forced me into getting my driver's license as early as I could as well as my brother introducing me to Formula 1 years ago 🏁

Beyond excited for this movie!

allhailyn WE LOVE U QUEEN WE CANT WAIT

filmthusiast this is such a new role for her im so excited

f1lover film + f1 is always going to be the biggest bestest combo ❤️

lecsluv LMAOOO NOT CHARLES LIKING THIS

zendayyn mans a fan norrisbaby Oh hes quick 😆

yourusername recently added to her instagram story!

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, and 1,482,2058 others

yourusername 3/4 done with filming for First Gear 🤍 So much work has been done for this movie and it's been the good kind of overwhelming so far. I've learned so much and experienced so many new things.

Included the one and only charles_leclerc here because majority of the things I learned came from him. He's pretty nice except he was beyond nervous when I drove the car for the first time.

scuderiaferrari We're glad to know Charles was the best tour guide ever! ❤️

lecsmmylove NOT FERRARI STICKING WITH THE TOUR GUIDE DESCRIPTION???

hamilfilm charles leclerc making his way into y/n's official ig account is not something i have on my bingo card

popgirltay u guys r so cute <3 friendship goals!

livelovelecs no, dating announcement next LOLOL

charles_leclerc Why do I seem like the bad guy here, I taught you pretty well didn't I?

yourusername I didn't say you were a bad teacher 😕

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari, and 1,102,358 others

charles_leclerc Everyday's karting day 🚘

lecsferrari the red nails??? sir u aint slick who is that

sainzmclaren It's Y/N 😭 She posted karting pics today too

yourusername What do you have to say for yourself that you lost?

charles_leclerc I let you win, jolie 😁 Pretty. ferarrimercs HE CALLED HER PRETTY?????

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, kendall, and 1,395,299 others

yourusername The student has become the teacher 😎

charles_leclerc Anyone would win if they were fighting kids on track

yourusername I sense sore loser 😝

leclercsyn TOO CUTE IM GONNA COMBUST

scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, florencepugh, and 2,034,551 others

yourusername Feeling so emotional that filming for a movie that holds a special place in my heart has come to an end 🤍 I am so ecstatic for all of you to see First Gear because everyone involved put everything they had for this film. I hope you guys love this as much as I do, possibly more.

So many people to thank — the directors, producers, scriptwriters, my co-stars, everyone who's worked so hard to make this into reality, I owe you all so much.

But I also never thought I'd meet someone so special. Charles, this past year for us have been so crazy and I'm glad I got to spend it with you. If it helps, the moment they told me you would be giving me a tour of the paddock, I fell instantly 😝

leclercsyn MY PARENTS AAAAA IM SCREAMING

scuderiaferrari We are so proud of you, Y/N ❤️ The whole team is waiting for the movie!

charles_leclerc What do you mean if it helps, I was literally sweating while telling you what a pitwall is

lecslover HES SO FUNNYHTBHRHB

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, ynleclercs16, pierregasly, and 1,673,992 others

charles_leclerc Most talented person I've come across. Watching you on set has become one of my favorite things to do; it reminds me of just how amazing you are. To more karting sessions with you ❤️

Sincerely,

Your paddock tour guide

lecshamilton hes owning the tour guide title, mad respect

sainzlove I AM MELTINGGGGG

f1luvr power couple me thinks?

yourusername Get ready to lose 🥱

--------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy

notes: why i take so much time making these ill never understand anyway i hope u guys like this hehehe thank you sm for reading <3

2K notes · View notes

trippinsorrows · 4 months ago

Text

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

if any cw/tw's are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father.

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality.

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness.

And that’s exactly what she is.

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palm make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that she is not included in, of course.

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’s restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom and frequently retrieved. But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for.

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.”

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip.

One of the men, an oversized, middle aged white man with a sharp gaze speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear she hears a hint of proudness. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of obedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it.

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman.

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.”

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx black loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts.

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her.

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug.

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without.

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns.

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated.

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom.

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too, and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm.

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak.

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match.

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.”

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.”

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest.

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth.

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints.

A wise decision.

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information.

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to.

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible.

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music.

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother’s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone.

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman.

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. “I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer.

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win.

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life.

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information. But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks.

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.”

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments.

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening.

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects.

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last.

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture.

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does.

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him.

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth.

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen.

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook #black writers

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threepandas · 4 months ago

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Bad End, Chosen: Part 5

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The first time around, I gave EVERYTHING. I drove myself into the ground, to be my Master's perfect Learner. To prove it had all been WORTH taking me on as a student. So that he would be proud. So he would love me. So that, like a father, he could look upon the child he raised and think "I did a good job, didn't I?"

Even then, I felt his uncertainty.

His fickle heart.

He was a weak man. One that let a mere child bully him into glorified fatherhood and then could not even commit to the choice he had made. As substantive as a cloud, drifting aimlessly across the endless sky. He abandoned me then. He'll abandon me again. I am, at best, something he feels he is "supposed" to do.

He does not love me. He never loved me.

But I love him.

And some days... I hate that I do.

I hate that I spent night after night, pouring over excruciating texts in tiny font. Ancient, dusty, tomes that talked endlessly in circles. I hate that I practiced and practiced, until I could appear effortless before him. The star pupil. The gem of the tower. Dispised and envied by my peers. And... and so utterly, utterly ALONE.

I died.

I died, desperately holding up the tower itself. The only one even vaguely prepared. When The Dark came. I saw tears and terror on the faces of children. Saw the ceiling crashing towards us. And chose to protect THEM instead of myself. It was, perhaps, the first and last time they ever saw me as something human. Fallible.

I was afraid.

But I did not let that terror hold me back.

They tried. Gods, they tried so, so hard to save me. Wept and screamed as the world seemed to END around us. As day turned to night and monster straight from the worst nightmares of man, crawled from the screaming vents, the WOUNDS upon reality itself. The last thing I saw? Was not my Master's face. But the tear stained faces of children pouring everything they could, into taking the impossible burden that even in those moments? Was killing me.

I cracked apart. Overloaded by the core of the Tower, which I had been desperately channeling. It... it was like becoming light.

And then the world rewound.

I did not learn my lesson. I was still young. Did not yet fully understand. Like all Reincarnators I thought I was here for a REASON. It took time to fully grasp how things worked. But that second life? Even now... even now I miss it.

Because back then...

I made friends.

I was so GRATEFUL. Could not unsee, that when the horrors came? They did not abandon me. They didn't even LIKE me. But... but I wanted them to. So I tried. I talked with them. Ate with them. Told jokes and went on trips. Was young. I grew to care so, so much about them. My dear and beloved friends.

Then?

I got to watch them DIE.

Gruesomely. Slowly. And without hope.

Perhaps that was when my love and compassion for the Protagonist died. When my struggle with hatred began. Because while those I loved suffered in mud stained hells, trenches and bile stenched infirmary, she frolicked in rose gardens. Dreaming of girlish love.

What of Duty? Of the death and suffering she IGNORED? How DARE she selfishly concern herself only with her OWN feelings and desires, as the world that NEEDS her dies in fear and agony! What SAINT is she? What GODS allow this?!

Thus was born my Rage.

And so, I refuse my Fate.

But I've made a mistake. A... a terrible mistake. And even now, he circles me like a bird of prey, correcting my stance with hands that linger. A man that looms. Standing too close. Forever patting my head, fingers carding possessively through my hair. Gripping the strands to make me look at him. Always gentle... but with just enough strength to hint that he could NOT be, if he chose.

He manhandles me like a doll. Physically. With magic. It is all the same. Looking forever delighted at the ease at which he can simply drag me into the air with a hover spell. Like a child sized balloon. To be carted around at his mercy.

I barely SEE my actual Master.

Alaric enables it. I... I refuse to call him Grandmaster in my head. He's already gotten to me once. I can endure. I survived once. I can do it again.

"Is my lesson so boring? That you must retreat into your head, child?" More like horrifying. The scent of blood is overwhelming. I keep my eyes locked on the far wall. "Ignoring my lectures will not let you escape them. You are merely force yourself to repeat them, you know. I am perfectly willing to repeat your lessons as many times as it takes."

"Academically" studying The Dark my ASS. Alaric Blight had, HAS, a fucking torture chamber. These are the worst sort of magics. I REFUSE to learn them. Will NOT use them. FUCK YOU.

I give the poor corpse before me what little dignity I can. By not seeing what they have been reduced too. They deserved better then this.

Alaric huffs a laugh. Gently putting down his ceremonial knife on a nearby table. He wipes the viscera from his hands with a rag as he strolls, calm as you please, over to my helplessly floating form.

"Ah~ that stubborn little glare. So FUSSY, Grandlearner." He laughs, the picture of indulgence. "I suppose I HAVE kept you here a touch too long, haven't I? We've missed several meals AND your nap. You are a growing child. No matter how fascinating the material, I can hardly expect you to concentrate under these conditions, now can I?"

He reaks of copper and a rich cologne I have grown to HATE. If only because it is his favorite. I am gathered from the air and pressed against his front, held like a child. I... I still can not move my limbs. He is no fool. For all I am pressed, lovingly almost, against him? I would tear his throat out with my TEETH.

He will not be giving me that chance.

I dispise him.

I DISPISE "naps".

Bad enough to be dragged around in his company for lessons. At least then, I can remember his evil. The cruelty and crimes. But NAPS? Insidious. We're it not for the immobility, they would have done terrible things to my head, long LONG ago.

They are exactly what they sound like. I am dragged off, to be cuddled like some stuffed animal, in some beautiful and soothing environment. For a nap. Bonding. Just me, him, and my head pressed against his chest. Against the hypnotic sound of his beating heart. Fighting the exhaustion in my bones. The desire to just... just let GO and know a moment's peace.

We never make it to the garden.

An explosion ROCKS the Magic Tower. Over a decade too soon to be The Dark. Alaric stops misstep, his personal barriers keeping even dust from touching us, as in the distance, Mage's scream. The Tower's barrier...goes up.

It...it NEVER goes up.

That is the seige barrier. For... for ATTACKS. Who would!?

"Ah. I knew I was forgetting something." Alaric says, as calmly as though musing on the weather outside instead of an attack upon an ancient, foundational institution. "It seems the temple dogs have finally decided to act upon all their barking. I imagine their little whore will make a wonderful figurehead. They always WERE on the look out for more puppets."

I stare up in confusion as he looks out as the barrier. His gaze flat, empty, and cold. Voice is distant as his muses, as though he long ago stopped caring. He catches my gaze upon him and the warmth floods back in.

"You see, little one. I normally kill them. They tend to make a pest of themselves. I have a list of things I must get done each cycle." He smiles fondly, utterly ignoring the alarms that have begun to sound. The calls for all Master's to defensive positions. "It is something you will learn, with time. A lesson I, of course, will be teaching you~"

"Now, since THIS building will likely become useless to us shortly. Let us go pack, hmm? The story progress. It's time to go home." He turns, and we begin to walk away.

"W-Wait!" I manage to choke out.

He pauses, looks down at me, patient even as people die. What, after all, does HE care, if they do? I try desperately to gather my thought. It is like scrambling after dropped beads across a smooth floor. I think, I HOPE, I get enough...

"I... G-Grandmaster I li..LIKE learning here. With you. It feels more familiar and has better places to... to nap. Could you... WOULD you, PLEASE, go save everyone?" I manage to rip from my throat, each word like pulling a tooth. I hate it. I HATE IT! But for them? Anything.

"Oh? Grandlearner~! Was that a REQUEST?" Croons the madman who holds me, his grip getting tighter for just a moment before relaxing back into it's gentle hold. Lips, almost burning with power, brush softly against my temple in a kiss. He makes a horrifyingly satisfied noise. "Of course MY child. Anything for MY Grandlearner, after all. You are my world, little light."

The world twists.

And suddenly? I am floating safely in the shade of a tree, far across the valley from the Tower. I can... I can feel the struggling Master's. Fighting to hold off the Temple's holy warriors. It is a blood soaked standstill. Until Alaric Blight steps up to the field.

Then?

EVERYTHING IS FIRE.

He is The Arch-Mage of Red. Not just for his hair, but for his terrifying master of fire and battle magics. What once, moments before, was a sea of green? Becomes ash and flame in an instant. So hot the fire burns the very air itself. Bordering on plasma. The ground itself molten in his wake.

None survive. How could any even dream?

It is like a nuke made man.

I shake. Tears slipping down my cheeks as I watch old growth vanish in the distance. Centuries of life. Gone in a moment of ugly destruction. They will praise him for this. Call him a hero. But I know what he is. What hides beneath that ugly, shining, mask of a charm and civility. And... and I am scared.

A chirp of starlight and tinkling glass, high and questioning, hovers just to my right.

Fairy-dragons. A full swarm. Creatures the size of a cat with the power of a god. All but one, staring furiously down at the destruction in the valley below. They radiates furious grief at the loss of so much life and forest. But the one looking at me... feels? Questioning? Somehow?

Can they project?

I can only assume. I KNOW they can understand spoken languages. All dragons can. And as powerful as dragons ARE...

"Please... please! Help me!" I choke out, finally letting my tears spill. Because if I can not cry in front of dragons, then where? "I'm not strong enough. He's a MONSTER. I know you can feel it! Please! Just until I recover. Until I can fight. PLEASE!"

More of the tiny creatures look at me. Glance at each other. Then back towards where Alaric continues his destruction. Their destain for him is obvious. Their eyes as they look upon me, hold no special love. Just ambivalence. But... they are what they are. And they DO hate the sort of creature Alaric Blight has become.

With a tearing WRENCH the spell holding me is SHREDDED.

Painfully, in dragon claws.

In the distance, Alaric stops. No doubt feeling that. Knowing someone not only freed me, but ATTACKED HIM. The dragon that was worried for me touches my shoulder. And before my Grandmaster can ever discover WHO stole me away?

I am Gone.

I do not see the city of Towervalley, the magic tower itself, BURN.

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere otome #yandere otome isekai #yanblr #bad end chosen #bad end chosen au #platonic yandere #Alaric Blight #captured reader #reader insert #reader gets free #mage reader #tw gore #everybody give it up for the REAL mvps!#fairydragons!

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kindestofkings · 1 year ago

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what came first, the chicken or the dickhead [2/3]

[smau]

f1driver!reader x lando norris (eventually, friends to lovers ofc)]

authors note: THANK YOU SOOO much for the love on part one guys I'm so overwhelemed 🥺 hope you guys enjoy this next part <33

yourusername

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yourusername I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why? Oh, 'cause she's about kick off her first season with ferrari xx

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landonorris shes in her reputation era 💅

yourusername i've trained you so well

ynfan1 I'm so excited to see you in that red car ❤️🔥

Racerbia I can't believe my bestie is a FERRARI DRIVER

yourusername I know can you believe it!! best of luck with your season this year <33

charles_leclerc I did not know you joining the team would result in me learning so many taylor swift lyrics

landonorris just you wait until she starts sending you fan theories.. yourusername charlie you'd get an A in taylor swift theory and lyric knowledge, dont fight it !! f1fan she calls him charlie they have to be dating!

ynfan1 charles_leclerc what's your favourite Tswift album?

charles_leclerc I think its Red charles_leclerc (TAYLOR'S VERSION THO) yourusername phew that was a close one

taylorswift never seen a getaway car driver look so good, knock em dead 🖤

yourusername omgomgomgomgomgomg mother, I mean miss Swift its an honour landonorris oh thats why shes inconsolably crying alex_albon is that what that scream was? ynfan2 shes been broken

scuderiaferrari

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scuderiaferrari red era vibes with our dynamic duo locking it down here in bahrain! our two drivers are ready for sunday 👊

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ynfan1 the power of yourusername, converting the whole ferrari team into being swifties 😂

yourusername you know it! I'm a swiftie first, a media nightmare second and THEN a f1 driver

f1fan enough with the pop culture comparisons. what matters is the race, not taylor swift. Let the performance do the talking

ynfan2 how sad is your little life??

yourusername

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yourusername P3 babyyy, while your out here running your mouth still I'm busy getting on to that podium. Bahrin you were beautiful, thank you to the team and to charles for all the support this weekend, and just in general ❤️

congrats maxverstappen1 on opening the season with such a surprising (not) win! was a fun fight 😂

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maxverstappen1 think you going to be a reoccurring problem now!

yourusername it me hi! im the problem its me xx (liked by taylorswift and others)

ynfan1 I never expected the f1/taylor swift cross over but i love this

f1fan making the tifosi so proud 👊❤️

maxfewtrell fantastic drive, so proud!!!

yourusername maxi my boy <3

charles_leclerc posted to their story!

-@carlossainz55 would never have done this to me 😞

f1wagsupdates

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f1wagsupdates in the week coming to the monaco grand prix, it appears the two ferrari drivers are spending time together with leclerc's family! seems like a bit more than just teammate bonding 👀

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yncharlesshipper wow the family, must be serious

ynlando4ever please please please be besties

ynfan1 its getting hard to be delulu about this 😀

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

Mwahahahah mama leclerc the women than you are

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charles_leclerc when did this exchange happen 😂 arthur_leclerc 😂 😂 😂 😂 landonorris troy bolten and justin beiber call they want hair tips x

yourusername

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yourusername MONACOOOO its race day and you best believe I'm bringing my A game in defensive racing. il predestinato will break his monaco curse if its the last thing I do 😤

charles_leclerc starting p1 go slay this thing bestie!!

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charles_leclerc the best 👊

scuderiaferrari teamwork makes the dream work 🔥

f1fan gasly could NEVER with the teamwork

ynfan1 ouch that bestie has gotta hurt 😬

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc best. day. ever.

winning in red and winning at home has always been the dream, thank you thank you everyone for the support in getting here! special thanks to yourusername for the incredibly defense and helping reach my dream 🫶

this one's for you, monaco!

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scuderiaferrari we always knew you could do it 👊🔥

yourusername CHARLIEEE always knew you could do it !

carlossainz55 amazing felicidades

charles_leclerc thank you thank you

maxverstappen1 hate to lose but congrats mate!

pierregasly living out your destiny 💪 that was all you charles!

ynfan1 pierre try not to make a petty comment challenge: FAILED (liked by yourusername)

f1fan monaco belongs to you, il predestinato!!!

yourusername posted a photo to their story!

they both prefer each other over me guys help 😭😭

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landonorris my best girl 🥰 -> me?? so kind! landonorris 😑😑

I just tagged a few peps that I thought were waiting out for part 2! let me know if you're not comfortable being tagged :))

taglist: @kissesandmartinis @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @reidside @leclercin16

2/3 , part three is coming later tonight its gonna be fluffy i promise 💓

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1driver!reader #smau

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misc-obeyme · 6 months ago

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Hihi can I request a Barbatos and MC with severe depression? Like they have a hard time getting out of bed, showing, and Barbatos helps them if that's okay? Also please take care of yourself! I'm proud of you for taking a break!

Hi, anon! It's definitely okay! I did say in my writing update post that I'm accepting small drabble requests! And thank you, I'm definitely doing much better now! 💕

I used a lot of personal experience for this one, but I've been there and it's hard not to use those feelings when I write. Anyway, I hope it turned out okay!

Barbatos sees the mound of blanket slowly moving up and down with your breathing. It's a relief to see that minuscule movement - an indication that you're still holding on. He sits down on the edge of the bed, knowing that his weight moving the mattress will alert you to his presence. Even so, you don't stir.

He can't see you. The blankets cover most of you. The only thing visible is the top of your head, your hair greasy and in disarray. He knows you haven't showered in days. He knows you haven't left your bed in days except to go to the bathroom. You'll sneak into the kitchen in the night to eat. Sometimes you're awake and scrolling mindlessly through your D.D.D. But mostly you simply sleep. A space of oblivion where you don't have to feel anything when you're feeling everything far too much.

Barbatos reaches out a hand toward you. He hesitates. He knows you're aware of him, that you're awake in that moment, though keeping your eyes closed. He knows you don't want him to see you. He knows that it hurts you to see him. He knows that you don't want to look at him and see pity.

But Barbatos is a master at portraying no emotion aside from the one he very deliberately means to show. All you will see when you look at him is love. Because he will allow nothing else.

Barbatos settles his gloved hand on your back.

He waits.

Eventually you squirm beneath his touch, a subtle indication that you don't want him to be here.

"I will not leave until you speak to me," Barbatos says. He keeps his voice soft, but with a firmness that he hopes will impart to you how serious he is.

You mumble an incomprehensible acquiescence and he takes it.

"Tell me what you need," he says, keeping his tone even and neutral.

There is a long silence.

And then you sit up and look at him. The blanket falls from your shoulders. You have dark circles beneath your eyes and your stare is hollow, but for a tiny spark of surprise.

"You're not going to scold me?" you ask. Your voice is so ragged it nearly breaks his heart.

He reaches out to brush his fingers across your cheek, wishing for the first time that he wasn't wearing his gloves so he could feel you. "You have done nothing wrong, my love."

You bite your lip, hard. He wants to reach out, to pull you to him, to kiss you, to make you stop before you break the skin. But the tears that have formed in your eyes stop him. He's too cautious, still uncertain about what you need in this moment.

He learns his worries are unfounded the moment you collapse into his arms.

Barbatos holds you, rubbing gentle circles on your back as you pretend you aren't crying as hard as you are. You cling to him and the heaviness of your grip feels like solidity to him. Like you aren't slipping away, like you're still his, like maybe he can simply be whatever you need after all. It's all he wants.

So when you've cried yourself out, he asks you again. He asks you to tell him what you need. And you do. And he gives you whatever it is you ask for. It takes some time for you to find your way out of the labyrinth of sadness again. But Barbatos is there to guide you through every turn.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#mmm I just think he would understand #he would take care of you #however you asked him to #if someone simply asked me what I needed #it would have made a world of difference #sorry getting too personal in the tags lol #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #om barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #om barbatos x mc #obey me!#x reader #request #misc writes

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intimidating-fettuccine · 8 months ago

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Can I ask for more soft headcanons of Helen as a boyfriend? I need more of Helen please

Yesssss that's my boyyyy I love Helen so much, thank you for this I missed him. I hope you enjoy :)

The longer Helen is dating you, he starts to notice a habit developing inside him. In your early days of dating, you'd offer to sit near him quietly while he does his art, and he'd accept on the condition that you don't bother him too much. Oh, how the times have changed. You'd gradually start talking to him more, and he'd start gradually talking to you more too, and now Helen can't finish an art piece unless he has you by his side telling him about your day, or anything at all you want to ramble about. He's become conditioned into needing your presence while he does any art, which is crazy to him because younger Helen before he met you would be aghast at the thought, but the longer he dates you the more he wants to be around you at any chance he can get. You energize and inspire him, and he finds that he loves any art he makes beside you to be his best work.

Started doing pottery recently as a way to branch out and learn more things, and he tries to make stuff for you all the time. It all started when you pointed out a really cute mug you'd seen online that was out of stock, and with his newfound pottery hobby, he offered to try and make it for you. After it was painted and fired, you were just so extremely excited about it, so giddy and bouncy, something switched on in his brain, and now the poor guy cannot stop wanting to make you more things. The smile you gave him just fucking wrecked him inside, and he needs to see it again. Also??? Would love it if you try and do some pottery with him too. He'll teach you how to do it if you don't already know, and the prospect of making and painting different pottery together is just so relaxing and enjoyable to Helen, so please make sure to do that with him. I'm also headcanoning that one of the first pottery things he made you was a vase, and he always keeps it filled with fresh flowers for you.

Helen has been manifesting a bit of a sweet tooth lately, and that comes in the form of him constantly trying to bake new things, and often baking them for you. I've said before he loves cooking for you (especially high-quality French food as he's French in my canon), so it's only natural that when he gets into baking, he wants you to try all the things he makes and enjoy them with him. I think Helen really enjoys baking because he can also use it as an artistic endeavor, baking and decorating beautiful desserts. Whenever you praise him for them, saying they look and taste wonderful, it always excites him and makes him feel proud, because your opinion is the one he's come to value most. Like with his art, he likes when you're in the kitchen whenever he's baking or cooking for you, and you're the only person he allows in there. He'll have you sit at the kitchen island and talk with him while he whips something up, and he likes to decorate them in front of you so you can see the whole process. Doing things like this for you is just so stress relieving for him, so it's something he tends to do quite often. He's also always taking requests, so if you ever have a hankering for something don't be afraid to ask him for it.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #bloody painter #bloody painter headcanons #bloody painter headcanon #bloody painter x reader

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viaoverthemoon · 1 year ago

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I have a small request here too✋ I was thinking about Leon (damnation maybe) x fem!reader with reader being his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and the little one falls in love with her and wants to spend more time with reader, and Leon he finds himself forced to accept this, so he falls in love with the reader. It can be with smut at the end or just something romantic, it doesn't matter.

I hope I explained it ok, I've had this idea in my head for some time but I don't know how to express it 😂❤️❤️

Oooo this sounds so cute stawpppp.

Since I have another fic in the works that's drenched in smut, I'll keep this one fluffy. ;)

Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're a kindergarten teacher for Leon Kennedy's daughter and she wants to keep you forever!

Tw: Fluff, Mention of deceased relative, Mention of past miscarriage

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!

Enjoy! <3

To Belong

❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁❁´◡`❁

"Congratulations, Arabella! It looks like you're our student of the week!"

You gently place the pin on Arabella's shirt, smiling widely at her proud expression.

Being a kindergarten teacher definitely has its downs. But also has its ups as well. One of those ups being the honor of teaching these innocent children. Every day is something new, a new experience that makes you realize the importance of raising the next generation.

Arabella turns towards you, smiling so wide her cheeks must hurt. She grabs onto your leg. "Thank you, Miss (L/N)! This means so much to me!"

You smile down at her, proud of her for using the feelings lesson you'd taught her, and crouch to her level to give her a hug. "You're welcome, Arabella! I'm so proud of you. Thank you for being such a kind student!"

She seems to take your praise very seriously, being super kind to her classmates and staying by you side, asking if you need help or service in any kind of way.

❁

At the end of the day when everyone has left, you sit alone at your desk.

Whilst flipping from one graded paper to another, the door to your classroom creaks open.

You raise your head just in time to see Arabella run into the room, screaming with her arms in the air. "MISS (L/N)!!!!"

You laugh as she runs around your desk and hugs you, babbling nonsense excitedly. "Oh my goodness! Back so soon, Arabella?"

She gives a hyper nod. "Yes!"

"'Yes ma'am', Bella."

Your eyes snap up, locking with a pair of bright blues.

You look at him, surprised.

The man held a strong resemblance to Arabella, minus the straight blonde hair Arabella carried. They shared blue eyes and a soft face. If anything, his rough exterior yet light features suited him. Gave him a mysterious and alluring air that draws people to him, searching to learn more about him.

"Oh- yes ma'am- Daddy look, look! This is the nice teacher I was telling you about!"

You rise from your chair and hold out a hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kennedy."

He shakes your hand and offers a nod. "Pleasure to meet you too, Miss (L/N). As you can see, I've heard quite a lot about you."

He gives his daughter a pointed look that makes you laugh. You gesture to the seat across from your desk, offering him a seat as you settle back into your chair. "I assume there's a reason you're here that I could help you with?"

Mr. Kennedy sits in the chair, seemingly tired as he falls into the seat and instinctively spreads his legs.

You try your hardest not to acknowledge the action, but your eyes fail you, flickering down his frame for half a second before returning to his face.

You instantly regret your mistake when he smirks at you, straightening up just a bit and resting his arms on his legs. "Actually, I was hoping to discuss what Arabella's behaviors are like while she's at school, as well as how she's learning." He pauses. "I mean, obviously if she's getting student of the month for the 2nd time, she's doing pretty good."

He smiles and playfully ruffles Arabella's hair, earning a laugh from the 5-year-old. "But still. It would be nice to hear from her teacher, not her."

You clear your throat and nod, turning away to escape the burn of his gaze and pulling out a folder labeled A.K., Arabella Kennedy's character chart.

"Of course, I understand. Let's start with how she handles assignments."

❁

After about 45 minutes of talking, Leon seems satisfied with his daughter's school life and begins to pack up his things to leave. But Arabella becomes upset, running to you and refusing to let go of your leg.

"No! I'm not ready to say bye to Miss (L/N) yet!"

She throws the standard child tantrum, small tears streaming down her reddened puffed out cheeks as you gently try to coax her into letting go.

"Arabella... Don't be upset. You'll see me again on Monday-"

But she's relentless, shaking her head and kicking away Mr. Kennedy's hands as he tries to reach for her.

Eventually, he sighs and looks at you embarrassingly. "I'm so sorry Miss (L/N). She's hardly ever like this."

Seeing as this is something you deal with all the time, you just shake your head, offering a small smile. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to this behavior... I'm about to leave for the day. If you guys want, we could go out for a quick dinner? This way, we won't have to part so soon."

This gets the crying 5-year-old to quiet down almost immediately. She looks up from your leg, tears and snot smeared all over your pant leg. "Really? Can we?"

You look up at Mr. Kennedy, raising a brow for conformation. And, seeing as there was no way around it, he gives in.

❁

And from that moment forward, you and the Kennedy family became quite close.

You shared a few dinners and spent time together at amusement parks and entertainment events, eventually becoming so close that you'd even watch Arabella when Leon had to leave for reasons of his job.

You listen to his stories, and he listens to yours.

He shares how he and Arabella have no one else to depend on. Her mother, although she and Leon didn't have a good relationship, had died during childbirth. And how he'd lost his own parents long ago, growing up an orphan and not having much.

And you share only having your parents. You could have had a little one yourself, but unfortunately grieved a harsh miscarriage and the father of the child leaving soon after didn't help.

You both end up having more in common than you'd originally thought.

And now, you share more than just experiences and memories. Now, you share shy looks and ghostly touches.

Somedays his hand will graze yours and you both will avoid each other's gaze, ignoring the sudden spark that comes when you make contact.

That is until, one night Leon returns from a particularly long job to find you curled up on his living room couch with a book in hand, reading glasses perched on the bridge of your nose.

"Hey, sorry for the long night. Never meant to be gone that long." He shrugs off his leather jacket and throws it over the arm of his second couch.

You eye his fatigued figure for a moment before removing your glasses and putting down your book. "No, it's alright. You know I don't mind, Leon."

Sitting up, you pat the spot next to you on the couch, offering him a seat. "Arabella's upstairs asleep in her room..." He gives a soft grunt and falls on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck while nodding and muttering a 'Good. Thank you.'

Eyes skillfully assessing his behavior, you decide to ask him the question that's been on your mind. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

He glances at you through his peripheral but instantly looks away. "Yes. I'm fine. You can go now."

In all honesty, the way he suggested you leaving hurt your feelings. But you didn't relent. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to stay..."

Reaching a hand out, you place it on top of his on his lap. He flinches slightly, but doesn't push you away. He pauses for a second...

And then he relaxes, flipping his hand over to wrap it around yours.

Your heart is in your throat and the palms of your hands begin to sweat. But you don't show it, smiling shyly at Leon and holding his hand.

He doesn't look at you. Doesn't show any signs that he acknowledges you besides the fact that he isn't letting go of your hand. "Why do you stay? Why do you want to stay?"

The monotone question catches you off guard. You momentarily freeze as his eyes find you.

Blue frozen glaciers filled with oceans and rivers of pure sadness and regret. The emotion in his eyes makes you briefly wonder where he finds the space for the happiness he feels with Arabella.

Or if he'll have the space for happiness with you.

You take a moment to think, looking down at your linked hands and gliding a thumb over the warmth of his skin. "I feel happiest when I'm here with the two of you. As you know, I don't have much. All I've had to look forward to has been my students... but now... I have the both of you."

You look him in the eyes, trying to convey your emotions through the look in yours. "These past few weeks have been the best I've lived through in years... I'm tired of living alone, Leon. Life is worth so much more when you spend it with somebody else."

He looks at you in shock, not sure what to say about your sudden confession. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, trying to choose the right words to say.

You look away bashfully. "Er- What I'm trying to say is... I'd like it if we could spend... more time together. And see each other more often. But-! It's completely up to you, of course."

For a moment, the silence is nerve wracking. You try not to fidget too much or show that you're anxious in awaiting his answer.

You're beginning to lose hope when Leon's hands are suddenly on your hips.

You're so surprised by his actions that you hardly notice him gently coaxing you into sitting on his lap.

Your legs straddle his thighs, backside rested on his knees when you suddenly notice your position. Your face burns hot, and you rest your hands on his shoulders.

His hands find purchase on your waist. "If I'm being honest, I expected you to leave us a long time ago... I didn't mean to be rude. I just didn't think you'd stay."

He caresses your sides, warm hands heating through the fabric of your clothes. "And... I would like it- a lot if you stayed with us. Not only would you make me happy, but you'd make Arabella happy too. And that matters more than anything."

You pretend to ponder on your decision, looking away with a small smile on your face before turning back to Leon. "Well... I guess I can stick around-"

The sentence barely leaves your lips before Leon pulls you in, kissing you with so much relieved passion that you momentarily feel dizzy.

And for once, you feel like you truly belong somewhere.

Yes. This feeling is definitely one you can get used to.

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Nobody: My inbox screaming and crying for help: 😓😭😭☠️ Me with 0 internet or data: 🧍🏾‍♀️💃📖

Hope you enjoyed!

More requests coming soon!

Requests are open!! <3

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