#i wish i could just hate my mother it would be so much easier | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yerrmar · 4 months

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𝐀 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬

!Fem! reader child of Persephone x Luke Castellan

Summary: you’re just like your mother a loyal sweetheart who’s feared by her enemies; he’s just like Hades completely mesmerised.

warnings: The reader can get quite dark when she’s angry, and Luke is his lovely self, swearing, mentions of: war, violence, killing, and blood.

notes: this is my first time writing on here and writing like this so sorry if it’s shitty im not that good at writing, I just loved this idea and wanted to write it so bad because like i don’t know how to ask someone else to write it if you get what i mean😫

You have a heart made of roses and thorns, beautiful to look at, but if you get too close be careful not to get pricked.

That’s what people at camp liked to do anyway, just look at you. They didn’t want to hear you speak. You are just a pretty face that would never get old. Endlessly, boys and girls plucked petals from your beautiful rose garden, gently placing them into their hands before tearing them apart; right in front of your face. All anyone thought of you for was your beauty, not your fighting skills, or your love for flowers, and not how wicked your mind could be.

It wasn’t something you made people aware of. Why would you? Why would you ever want people to know about your deep loathing for this stupid camp and the Gods that ruled over the earth? They’re pathetic-you hate them, the way they feed off of their children’s desperate cries to be loved, and how they would start wars just because they can.

You hate their children too, for wanting to be like them. For desiring history to continuously be repeated. Watching them never take the fucking hint that their parent has no interest in them. That’s pathetic. Every single thing in this world is pathetic; at least it makes you laugh.

Your mother, on the other hand, isn't like them. She could never be like them. She gives a fuck about you, you didn’t even need to beg her for a reply. There was no wonder Chiron tells you that you are the exact double of her, you are a seed that dispersed from her golden rose.

You always dreamed of a love like Persephone’s and Hades-their love runs deeper than the Mariana Trench. Their loyalty put all the gods to shame. I mean, yes it was bad that he kidnapped her you wouldn’t dismiss that, it was just how they found so much love for each other. But a hard truth that you needed to realise was that the only thing you could ever be loved for is your pretty face.

But you didn’t mind, it's easier to manipulate people when they can’t tear their stare away from your enchanting face. Though it makes you feel miserable most of the time; you just wish that someone would see you for everything you are.

That someone being Luke Castellan- unknowingly to you, he adores everything about you. He often observes how gentle you are when you’re tending to wounds, or taking care of your plants, he can’t help but smile at the motions. Your heart is a mystery to him, how can a person have that much love in their body and not even a pinch of darkness?

Everyone at Camp loves Luke, he's admired by all. He's also talented at hiding his true intentions and feelings.

You knew who the boy was. If you didn't you had probably only just joined camp half-blood. Luke Castellan, the best swordsman and a total heart-throb, you found the boy to be very attractive. You didn’t mean to stare at him during training, but you couldn't help it, everything about him made your stomach do flips. The only downside is that you two had never held an actual conversation before, always just quick hellos as you passed each other, even from that you were longing for him to just give you something more. Something better.

That was till one night, his mind had been racing with dark thoughts that he couldn’t shake. Then he saw you sitting on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. Your feet are submerged in the freezing, pitch-black water. He wondered what you were doing up so late. As he got closer; the image of you became clearer. His eyes wandered over you. Usually, you had a flower sitting in your hair, but tonight you didn’t. Dried blood covered your knuckles; he could’ve sworn he saw a smirk on your face before he made himself known.

“Are you cold?”

You don't need to look at the person to know who it is. You've dreamed of his voice too often for it not to become familiar.

“No.” You replied, your voice as cold as the chilly air. Winter was arriving, and that's when you unconsciously became more closed off.

Luke frowned watching as your body trembled due to the freezing temperature, “Are you sure? You can borrow my jacket.”

His eyes still never left your swollen knuckles, curiosity almost getting the better of him. You groan, wanting to be left alone without being interrupted at least for just a minute, but everything around you seemed to be getting louder, and now here Luke was trying to start small talk.

If it was any other night you would've been happy to engage in conversation with him; tonight was not that night.

“I'm fine.” You snapped. Luke, strangely not taken aback by this action, placed his jacket around your shoulders anyway. And you didn't stop him.

Luke took a seat beside you, he wanted to ask about your bruised knuckles, and now he could see more clearly, he wanted to ask who caused that cut under your eye.

You knew exactly what he was thinking, it’s not like he was being discreet- you saw his eyes tracing over your hand, and how his jaw clenched from seeing your injury.

First, you tried to think of an excuse; you fell. But you couldn't help but want to tell him the truth, it was strange. “Just ask.”

Luke snapped his eyes to look at yours as you finally faced him. He tried to loom confused as if he didn't understand what you're talking about. “Ask what?”

“You know what, don't play dumb with me Castellan.” You scoffed. He loved how you read him like he was a book, if it was anyone else he would've attempted to kill them for reading him so well (it would be harder to hide), but you're different.

“Fine, you got me, princess. What happened to you're hand?” He chuckled.

You'll always stand up for yourself, no matter what. Nobody could ever make you doubt your worth.

So, when a boy from Apollo tried to make you look stupid in front of his friends, you snapped. Whilst you were practising archery, he came up behind you and placed his hand on your waist making you miss the target. He commented on how naive you are, and how you should accept his offer with private “lessons”.

Your fist collided with his nose, making a satisfying crack. You smirked at how he stumbled backwards, his face contorted into an unattractive expression. You would've laughed if it weren't for the judgemental looks you would have received.

People around you gasped, and some even cheered. The boy looked up at you in shock, his nose creating a pool of blood in his hands. “You bitch!” He hissed before lunging at you.

You didn’t have time to react when he slapped you, the sound echoed across the field. His ring got caught under your eye, causing a gash to appear. You held your burning face and snickered.

Finally, something interesting was happening in this shitty camp. You probably looked insane, but you didn’t care; you felt alive.

Your fist met with his face again, rekindling the connection that was once there. This time his whole body dropped to the ground, and you didn't stop there. You wondered how people felt about your pretty face when it was covered in blood.

People came to his rescue after seeing that you had no sign of stopping, even after he passed out. You ignored the disappointment on Chiron's face as he assessed the situation, with a smug expression and your head held high, you walked away.

Luke cursed himself for not being there, how he would kill to see you get angry like that, to watch you make people pay for being ignorant. Just imagining it made him grin. “How did it feel?” Luke spoke softly to you like if he spoke even just a bit louder, you'd shatter like glass.

You’re surprised by this question. His eyes stare deep into your soul-searching for his answer. He looked at you so deeply and intently that it made your cheeks burn. You didn't answer him, you just turned away and focused your attention on the ripples your legs made in the lake. He already knew how you felt, the way you explained the story to him, how you even laughed at one point. He knew that both of you shared the same anger; the same thirst for blood that came from the gods.

He reached out for your face. Gently, he placed his hand on your jaw turning you to face, his finger softly brushing your cheek. “You can trust me.”

His voice made you shudder, you'd never seen him treat someone so delicately. “Good.” She muttered.

“What?” He asked, even though he heard her perfectly fine, he wanted you to be proud. You’re ashamed that it made you feel so good to hurt someone who deserved it, you loved wiping the smirk off the bo's face. It made you feel… powerful.

But you'd never admit that to anyone. Luke understood that, but he wanted you to know you could talk to him about things like that; about anything. “I love duelling, not because it helps me with training, or because I win every time.” Luke smirked watching how you rolled your eyes at his cocky tone, “I love it because it feels so good to get all that anger off your chest. I love how it sounds when my fist meets someone's face. I love how it makes me feel powerful.”

After every sentence, his face got closer to yours, your noses just inches apart. Your breath hitched as he raised his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. He thought you were breathtaking like this, but you're always breathtaking to him.

You could be covered in blood and he'd still want to hold your face in his hands. He'd still kiss you so softly, but he knew he'd be too hungry for your lips to be gentle.

To Luke, his whole world was grey. Recently he hated everything and wanted to destroy it all. But you, you're the only colourful thing in his world. He'd do anything and everything to keep you safe, if anyone touched you he'd kill them. He so badly wanted to show you how perfect you are-he so badly wanted to close the small space that was between the both of you.

“So, how did it feel?” Luke asked again, seeing you give into trusting him.

Finally, you smirked. “It made me feel good. So. Fucking. Good.”

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #persephone #oneshot #Spotify #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fanfic

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confused-and-dickless · 2 years

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I love breathing. Love to be a part of it one day

#shitpost #vent #my lungs. hurt so very muchly #i will probably go to the hospital soon but i was prescribed meds to help first but i cant have dairy 1 hr before or 2 hrs after #i would probably just say that i need to go now but my usual childrens hospital has space issues so I'd be going to the adult hospital #its the same system or campus or whatever but i highly doubt i will be provided access to an xbox or hockey table lmao #also i need to pack up my office before i go to college so my parents can reuse the space and i dont want mom doing that for me #and i know it's irrational but my mom has had a very short temper with me lately and i am paranoid that it's because im sick #so in my head if i go to the hospital she will be mad at me. i know that is silly. but alas i am frightened #it's probably an indicator of something. yk its not normal to think your mom is mad at your for being sick.#but i dont really have another explanation as to why she seems so short with me #like usually shes the best communicator in our family (not saying much tbh) so it wouldnt make sense for her to not tell me why she was mad #unless she knew it wasnt a valid reason to be mad at me! but who knows she could just be kind of a bitch like her own mother #based on the only big fight ive ever had with her she's convinced that i exaggerate my symptoms to get my way #and for some reason she seemed to think that i hated her! which was not true until she yelled at me for having memory problems!#i dont hate my mother i am exaggerating. i dislike her at most. honestly im just ready to move out she'll be easier to deal with then #not to overshare her issues but she thinks i favor my dad a lot because he actually was the one to raise me which yeah! yeah i do #her working a lot was very important and necessary to pay for my health but that doesnt change the fact that she wasnt really there #i dont resent her for it i just wish she was aware that she'll never really make up that time. she just pretends!#anyway I've lost the energy to really care about this im watching schitts creek and i just got to literally the sweetest scene ever #so my lungs hurt and my mom is annoying but this fictional love story is going places and i am dreaming that i get a partner soon #so if you read this all the way through thank you for your concern/nosiness (whats the difference) but im all good now #this fictional romance is giving me hope for my upcoming irl college dating sim

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

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The Aftermath || LN4 {13}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando is still struggling with his anxiety and it seems to only grows with time as he tried to balance work and parenting. Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort, mentions of dad!PND WC: 3.4K

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

“I thought this was supposed to get easier,” Lando grumbled as you sat in bed, your laptop screen filled with his image. The bright late afternoon sun was streaming through the window in your room but it was night where Lando was in Miami. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I can’t concentrate on the race because I’m thinking about you two, and I can’t be at home because of the race…I hate this.”

“I don’t know if it's easier, but I guess it will become a new normal in time. We’ll be with you at the next three races, just have to make it through this one.”

“I need this two week break to hurry up and arrive. I just need to be able to go to put Ren to bed and tuck her in,” startled cries sounded from the cot across the room as Renleigh woke from her nap, “and I need to be there to pick her up when she cries. I think I’m going out of my mind.”

The catch in his voice broke your heart and you grabbed your phone off the bedside so you could message Max. “You don’t know how much I wish I could take away the hurt you’re feeling, Lan. I don’t want you to be alone so Max is getting on the first flight he can. And before you argue, he is happy to do it. We are both worried about you, babe.”

“No offence, love, but I don’t need Max, I need my family.” He dropped his chin onto his hand with a sigh.

“I’m just a phone call away, day or night. But if you want snuggles, Max will have to do for a few more nights.”

You left the laptop for a moment so you could reach into the cot and bring Ren over to see her daddy, waving her little hand to the camera. A smile finally graced his lips as he waved back and leaned closer to the screen to kiss his camera.

Placing her on the bed, you both watched her try to crawl towards Lando. “That’s it, my girl,” he praised as she rocked forward before face planting into the soft blankets. “Getting there, you’ll be racing around in no time.”

“Speaking of racing, you should be getting ready for bed,” you reminded him gently. “Max will be there in the morning to keep you company and you know you can talk to him about anything.”

“You make it sound like I need counselling,” he joked but it fell flat when you shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, it’s just…your job is already so stressful, then the addition of a baby…it’s a big change and it’s alright to admit that. Dads can get PND too.”

“Really?” His brows pinched together as he fell silent.

“Even if you are fine, I think talking to someone else might still help. Remember when you got me to go to counselling? You said it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of and it isn’t.”

He didn’t look convinced as he muttered, “yeah, maybe.”

“Just think about it,” you suggested as he started to yawn. “And get some rest, babe. I love you.”

You felt like you had come out of hibernation as you sat beside Lando, your fingers entwined as he drove to Imola. Since giving birth you had hardly travelled anywhere, opting to keep Renleigh’s arrival private, so everyone close enough to know about her came to your house to visit her. That would all change on Sunday and to say you were nervous was the mother of all understatements.

Your stomach was tied up in knots just thinking about trying to navigate the busy paddock with your precious baby. Lando had already organised plenty of security to escort you everywhere but your overthinking and paranoia whispered that there were still so many things that could go wrong. It lingered even when you tried to focus on the here and now.

The radio played quietly in the background but it was Ren that you listened to, her babbling in response to Lando’s chattering keeping you both entertained and distracted. You turned in the seat to see her smile in the small mirror and her papaya socks kicking in the air.

“Someone is excited to make her debut,” Lando said with a chuckle. He gripped the wheel with one hand and the other came to rest on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. There had hardly been a moment where he wasn’t holding some part of you since his return, needing the comfort of your touch to ground himself and suppress his growing anxiety.

This was the most relaxed he had been in months and you smiled back at him, grateful that your husband was returning to his old self.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked with a nervous laugh between glances as he drove.

“Do you ever just stop and think ‘I have never been happier than I am at this moment’?” you asked as you traced the beauty spots that dotted his arm like a constellation of stars that would always lead you home. “It’s almost painful how happy I am right now, like my heart is going to burst right out of my chest.”

“Please don’t,” he chuckled, reaching up to stroke your cheek before concentrating back on the road. “That was me this morning, well, every morning I wake up beside you. Seeing the sunlight catch your hair, the peace on your face when you bury it in my neck and snore.”

Ren’s arms startled into the air at the sudden laugh you barked and Lando’s grin grew at the sound of pure, unfiltered joy. “That was almost romantic! You were so close to a blowjob, until you lied.”

“You do snore, and it’s cute!” he stated seriously before casting you a sly smile. “So about that blowjob…”

You leaned over the console and kissed the sharp line of his jaw, tracing the curve to his ear. “Tell me I snore one more time.” He clamped his lips closed and you smirked as you sat back in the seat. “Smart man.”

Lando put the car in park and turned the engine off but made no move to open the door as he sat quietly with his hands still on the wheel. His qualifying had gone great the day before and he was starting the race in P3 but the race was far from his mind as he looked at the high fence ahead, knowing the circuit was just on the other side.

“What if we are doing the wrong thing?”

“Lan, we can’t keep her bubble wrapped for the rest of her life. And we are going to make mistakes, that’s just a fact, but there’s only one way to find out.” You looked out the window and saw a group of men wearing McLaren shirts that showed off their large muscles. “Your papaya army has arrived, and they bought the big guns too.”

Lando snorted and relaxed a little, though the wariness never left his eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stole a kiss. “Thank you.”

Lando’s fingers tightened around yours and he placed his other hand protectively over Renleigh’s back. He had debated putting her into the stroller that remained folded up in the car boot but the need to keep her close made him strap the front pack to his chest. Every few steps his head would dip down and he would place a tender kiss to the top of her head, whispering soothing words that were more for himself than her.

“What’s the weather forecast?” you asked as you tipped your head back to the skies and wondered if you had imagined the kiss of raindrop on your skin.

“Chance of rain, but it should only be light.” He took a look around himself and narrowed his eyes at the grey clouds on the horizon before picking up the pace a little. His quick walk stalled when he reached the paddock gates and patted his pockets for his pass to scan and swore under his breath.

“Looking for this?” you teased as you pulled his pass out of your pocket along with yours.

“Have I told you how much I missed having you here?” he said as he took his pass and scanned it, his photo popping up on the little screen before he stepped through the barrier.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice. Is Maria here already?”

Lando nodded, mentioning he had messaged her earlier and she had already arrived at the track with Zak.

“Maybe grand-mere can look after you for a little while,” you whispered as you tickled Ren’s feet through her socks. “Then mummy and daddy can sneak off to his room for a few minutes.”

“Minutes?” Lando scoffed at the insult and you grinned knowing his competitive side was coming out despite the fact the man’s stamina was far longer.

“If you want to prove me wrong…”

“I’ve done that multiple times a day, for the last two weeks, love,” he smirked as he whispered in your ear as you walked along. “But if your memory is that bad, I’m sure I can remind you.”

Your reply was lost as a huge swell of people came into view through the gaps in the wall of muscle ahead, the chaotic screams suddenly piercing the air as Lando was spotted by the crowd. Your mouth was still parted in shock but the sound of a shaky breath didn’t come from your lips.

“Can we get to the garage, please?” you asked the head of security and he nodded, just as eager to make it through the mass of people.

As effortless as Lando made it seem, he was never truly comfortable in large crowds and the birth of his daughter had only increased his social anxiety. You could feel it now as his palm heated against yours, his skin clammy and grip tightening to an almost painful hold. He was using you to anchor himself and fight back the panic so you bit the inside of your cheek and let him crush your hand.

“Almost there, baby,” you soothed as the men moved to the shape of an arrow that speared the crowd apart.

Cameras flashed and fans screamed as they spotted the baby tucked into Lando’s chest, just the brown tufts of her curls visible. Those too were hidden as Lando cupped the back of her head and hummed a sweet lullaby to distract himself from the questions thrown his way. There was no way he could bring himself to stop and answer any of them until Ren was safely in the McLaren area, he couldn’t risk her safety among the strangers. It was only when he caught sight of the grey and orange coloured motorhome that he could muster up the courage to slip his hand away from yours and offer a small wave.

The fear and reservations you had held never had time to surface while you focused on Lando but when you passed the doors and the outside world was silenced you finally breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it, Lan.”

“I don’t like this,” he admitted as he continued to his driver room. A bassinet was already set up with McLaren blankets and it made his lips twitch into an almost smile as you helped him to take Ren out of the front pack. “I can’t believe she slept through all that.”

He placed her into the bassinet and tucked her in while you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. You knew it wouldn’t be long until she woke up for a feed as a heaviness ached in your breasts so you had to make the most of the quiet moments while you could, dragging Lando to the couch and forcing him to sit down.

“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?” you asked as you combed your fingers through his hair and tugged the stands so he looked at you. “Talk to me.”

“I thought having you both here would be easier, but I still feel sick,” he admitted after a minute of drawn out silence. “I need you here, don’t get me wrong, I hated being away from you but now I can't…I don’t even know how to explain it.”

You waited patiently for him to collate his thoughts, holding his hand while he watched Ren sleep peacefully. He longed for that peacefulness too.

“Infinite possibilities, it’s something Andrea gets us to think about when we race. One move can make a difference, one millimetre off the line could be the difference between the fastest lap or ending up in the gravel. Every action has an infinite amount of possibilities and it’s my job to figure out which is most likely to happen.” He took a deep breath from his quiet ramblings and exhaled a long sigh as he slowed down his words. “I can’t stop thinking about the infinite possibilities with Ren. Every bad thing that could happen, everything that could go wrong, I see it in my head. All. The. Time. I can’t stop.”

His words died out with a sob and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace as he fell apart. This was the moment you had been expecting, though it was still gut wrenching to witness. All the ups and downs this season had been leading to one cataclysmic peak where he had to release the pent up thoughts he had tried to suppress.

“Do you remember that day at Silverstone, the first time I came back to the paddock?” You knew he was listening by the way he held his breath to silence the sobs that jolted his shoulders. Rubbing his back softly, you kissed his temple and stared at the poster on the wall, seeing how much his face had matured in the last four years.

“When I sat in your room alone it was like time stood still. I had so much time to think that I imagined every horror scenario of you and your car and that fear made my stomach turn. I couldn’t eat anything all day,” you admitted as he pulled back with shimmering eyes and damp cheeks. “But the moment I saw you napping in the cockpit of your car I could finally think again. Not a single one of those scenarios came close to what was actually happening in that moment.”

You wiped his eyes and cupped his face in your hands. “It doesn’t matter that there’s endless possibilities for how the future might go, Lando. All that matters is this moment, and wasting time thinking about things that may never even happen only makes us miss out on today.”

“You aren’t scared we are making the wrong decisions?”

“Of course I’m scared, babe. But I know the man I married and I know that the decisions we make, whether they are right or wrong, come from a good place.” You placed a hand over his heart, feeling the bump under his shirt of the necklace he wore for Ren. “That’s the best any parent can hope for.”

His hand came to rest over yours for a moment before he lifted it to his lips and kissed your wedding ring. “I need to go but I’ll be back before the race starts.”

You nodded as he went to the small bathroom and washed his face, looking clear headed and calm once more. “Are you alright?” you asked as he started to undress and grab his fireproofs from the closet.

He pulled the skin tight material over his head and looked at your reflection in the mirror. “No, but I will be.”

The honesty was more relieving despite his words and you were glad he hadn’t just lied and said he was fine.

With a small smile, he leaned into the bassinet and kissed Ren’s cheek. “I love you, little lady, more than anything in this whole wide world.”

Five years after Imola had stolen your breath away, it had done it again. This time your voice was hoarse from the screams of support and happiness as Lando won the race.

It was as if all the tears ever shed at the circuit were released from the heavens to cascade upon the track with only three laps to go. Max and Charles had just passed the pit entrance before the deluge fell but Lando had made the split second decision to box and change to full wets. He had quickly caught up with the better grip and took the lead when they pitted on the next lap.

You hadn’t been able to move from where you stood rooted on the balcony in front of the home straight. Lando had always been able to dance in the rain, making his car sing in harmony to the beat of the drops on the blacktop. This was his element, but every turn gave you heart palpitations.

Yellow flags flew as some drivers tried their luck with their slicks, praying the rain would pass, only to spin out when they hit a puddle. One rookie aquaplaned off the track, leaving tire ruts in the grass, before rejoining the track and you gasped as Lando had to swerve to avoid him.

“We saw there was a close call on that final turn. How stressful was that?”

“It was scary, so scary. Knowing that my wife was watching just ahead, and seeing that car come right in front of me…my wife and my daughter, they were all I could think about. It’s so wet out there, turn too quick and there’s just no grip, nothing to keep me on the track. I was certain I was gone when that car came at me.”

Lando brushed his cap off and combed his hair as his lips pressed tight to hide the tremble. “It was so scary. You just have no idea what it’s like in those split seconds where you react on instinct and don’t know if you have just saved your life or forfeited it. It’s a risk, and I used to find it fun when I was younger but not now. I have too much to risk now.”

You cradled Ren closer as the McLaren team let you through to the front of the barrier. You hadn’t planned on stepping out of the motorhome but Lando was clearly not okay and you needed to get to him.

“It’s hard to be excited over winning when I thought I had just about made my wife a widow again, or that my daughter was going to grow up and not know me,” he said, answering another question that you had missed as you navigated your way out of the garage. “As much as I love this sport, and I am grateful for all the people who have helped me to get to where I am, I love my family more.”

He seemed to sense you in the crowd and Renleigh started to cry in your arms as you reached the barrier. The reporter followed him as he crossed the short distance and pressed his sweaty forehead to yours. “I’m going to be alright,” he whispered for only you to hear before he took Ren, who instantly settled on his shoulder, as the crowd ‘awww’d at the sight.

“I have been thinking hard about this for the last few months,” he continued as he gently bounced Ren back to sleep, “but this will be my last season in Formula One. I have always put 100% into what means the most to me and I haven’t been able to do that with racing taking me away from my family.”

The shock that rippled through the crowd and stunned the reporter into silence didn’t reach you. You had seen the look in his eyes when he parked in front of the 1st place signage and pulled his helmet off. He hadn’t thrown his hands in the air, he hadn’t waved to the crowd or his team. He had fallen to his knees and ripped his gloves off to feel the solid ground beneath his palms as the rain continued to fall.

The microphone shifted to you as you watched Lando hold Ren tighter and brush his lips over her dark curls. “It must have been harrowing to watch that last lap, especially since it wasn’t far from where you laid a wreath earlier today.”

“I trust every decision Lando makes. I knew he would make it through,” you said with a reassuring smile to your husband as you clutched the necklace that held your first wedding ring. “And every year when I visit I ask René to watch over him. Maybe he was listening all this time.”

Click here for the epilogue.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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rustedhearts · 1 year

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Pretty Boy (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!fem reader)

summary: a look into the mind of our favorite brooding boxer; steve has a hard time opening up to you.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡ ♡ the king of the ring ♡

warnings: mention of nightmares, trauma talk!: mention of childhood + domestic abuse, steve has some deep-rooted insecurity, angst, hurt/comfort, allusion to smut at the end + soft steve :(

a/n: told from steve’s pov! in writing his pov, I tried to mimic his voice, the writing may seem a little unsophisticated at times. Steve struggles to find words sometimes.

seattle, washington june 1990

When Libby sleeps, she looks like an angel.

Somehow, she always dozes off facing me. Her lashes flutter for a few moments, and then they still. Her lip quivers, her nose twitches, and then they stop. When she searches for me in her sleep, I let her take my hand. She never remembers in the morning, and I allow myself this moment of secrecy. A moment of affection I don't have to pretend to dislike.

And when Libby sleeps, she never has nightmares. She wakes in the morning, well-rested and bright-eyed.

She knows nothing of mine.

It was easier to hide them when we slept apart, and though I'd rather die than be apart from her even in sleep, sometimes I wish for an empty bed to kick and scream at when I wake at midnight for the fourth time this week with the sound of my father's voice in the room. It's fucking stupid, how much the fucker lives in my head. The day I walked out of his house, I swore I'd never think of him again—but I have yet to escape him.

So, when Libby wakes—and I've just spent the last few hours trying to lull myself back to sleep—I take comfort in her voice. It's ridiculous, really, how easily it soothes me.

"Good morning, Stevie," she cooed this morning, stirring in my arms and searching blindly for my head.

Her hand—small, scented of the remnants of her indescribable perfume: like vanilla but not quite, something sweet and flowery but not so much that I have to sneeze, but whatever it was made my chest feel tight every time—skated across the back of my head.

The first time she did that, brushed the hair at the back of my head down with her palm, feathered her fingers through it, I think I shivered. Nobody's ever done that. Before Libby, I never wanted anyone to touch my hair. It was something my mother never did, and now I didn't know how to bear it. But now, I never want Libby to stop. How fucking stupid is that?

So much so, that when she took her hand away, I wanted to reach out and snatch it back, place it back into my hair and let her pet me like a puppy. But I ignored the lurch in my stomach, let her use her hand to rub at her eyes and hide a yawn. Had I taken her hand back, would she have liked it? Would it have been overbearing, too possessive?

"Morning, angel."

Libby hummed—a squeaky pip of a sound—and flopped onto her back. Her hair moved with her, fanning across the pillow like a mane. This position drew her eyes back a little, made them a little wider. Every day, I find new things about her to love. And every day, I find new things I worry will be taken away.

"What's on the agenda today, handsome?" Her voice was always so soft. I'm no good at describing voices, using pretty words to compare them to shit—but Libby's voice sounded like cotton. Fluffy, soft, gentle.

I brought my hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek. I noticed that every time I do that, hold her face and caress it, she softened a little. Her eyes got this little twinkle, like she was seeing a kitten in a storefront.

"Same shit. Training, maybe a late lunch if Big doesn't ride my ass." I hated to admit it. I hated telling her that she was stuck with me all day again, though she swore she doesn't mind it.

But I always saw the way she crumbled a little.

"Oh, okay," she chirped, and a smile came to her face a moment later.

Before I could say anything else, she slipped from my arms. Freed of the crisp confines of the white hotel sheets, she padded toward the bathroom in nothing but her silky nightgown. It was the same one she used to wear back home—orange, covered in flowers, lace around the straps and along her breasts.

It reminded me of days spent rotting in my apartment: hovering behind her while she flipped pancakes on the stove, lounging on the sofa while she flittered and spun around the room listening to Donna Summer on my record player, watching each other's eyes in the afternoon light when we were just waking up. Now, the straps were wearing thin and the lace was starting to tear, but if I bought her a new one, it wouldn't be the same. It wouldn't remind me of home.

"Do you think," Libby mumbled around her toothbrush, words sudsing with white foam, "we'll have time to see the Pike Place Market?"

I knew the answer. I knew we wouldn't. But Libby spat toothpaste into the sink and rinsed her mouth with minty wash, and she pulled her hair away from her face to rub cream across her cheeks; she readied herself for a day she'd spend confined in a sweaty, musty gym, reading a book she'd read dozens of times before. She did so much for me. I felt like I didn't do enough for her.

"Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can try," I told her.

The radiant smile I received in response made the lie worth it.

♡ ♡

At least not everything was a lie.

We had time for lunch: a small bistro just down the street from the gym. Training was rough today—Big had been on my ass like fly on shit ever since the incident in Boston. I was training harder, longer, at a frequency that I knew upset Libby. By the afternoon, all the glowing brightness to her face had disappeared, and morphed into something bitter and drawn.

Ketchup splattered with every smack of her French fry in the glob on her plate, and I huffed as speckles appeared on my hand again.

“Libby.” It always came out of my mouth a little too harsh. I never meant to yell when I did.

Libby huffed, dropping the french fry into the ketchup. She reached for her Pepsi, sipping from the striped straw with glossy lips. I watched them close around the end of it and immediately missed the feel of them against me, though I’d just kissed her on the way here. When she set the glass down, I took her hand and brought it to my mouth. Her chin dropped to her other palm, elbow thunking on the table.

A sharp sigh left me before I could stop it, our intertwined hands resting beside the plates. “What’s wrong now?”

Libby’s eyes moved from the window to her picked-at plate. “Nothing.”

‘Nothing’ always meant ‘everything.’ Libby was a notorious pouter—something I usually adored about her. Until she pouted in retaliation for the fact that I couldn’t read her mind. I much preferred the pout that came from too little attention, or when she wanted something without asking for it—that pout was soft an old d doe-eyed, usually followed by a sweet kiss to the cheek. This pout was sour and came followed by huffing and eye rolling.

“Libby,” I sighed, crumpling my napkin in my fist and tossing it onto the table.

Her arms crossed, and the predictable eye roll followed suit. I scowled at the sight of it. Libby, usually sickeningly sweet, had an attitude on her that I dreaded the appearance of.

My fist landed on the table with a noisy bang, rattling the cutlery and causing Libby to flinch. A part of me shriveled when she did that. My chest tightened like a compressed air bag. An apology collected on the tip of my tongue. But would an apology make me look like weak? You lack conviction, Steven. No one’s going to take you seriously, pretty boy. You look like a little pussy. There was my father’s voice again, ringing in my head. I ran my hand through the front of my hair to mess it up. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

“Fuck,” shot from my mouth before I could swallow it, “just…I can’t read your damn mind, Libby.”

I didn't want her to be upset. I didn't want her to pout and roll her eyes and be sour all day—I wanted to see her smile and giggle and blush at the way I teased her. I wanted to have a nice day.

"It's nothing, Steve," she sighed, pulling away from the table to rest back against her side of the booth.

Libby looked off toward the window to her left, and an image of our first date suddenly flashed in my mind. The glimmering sheen of grease on every slice of pizza, the low jazz on the jukebox, the stench of beer on her pretty dress, the way her lips tasted under the streetlight on the way home—like Libby. There was no other way to describe it. She had a taste of her own—like fresh bakery and the sugary coating on a sour gummy worm, but also like artificial strawberry and Coca Cola. I never got tired of that taste in my mouth.

She was upset with me, but later, she wouldn’t be. She always got upset with me, but she always forgave me. At the end of the day, we loved each other. Wasn’t that enough?

I plucked her hand up again when it touched the table, bringing it to my mouth. My lips grazed her knuckles, thumb pressing into the ring on her middle finger that she wore every day. It was old and needed to be cleaned, but it reminded her of home. Like the silk nightgown she wore to bed, it was a piece of home she wasn’t ready to trade in for something new.

“Come on, let’s go to that…that market place.”

Libby’s head whipped from the window, eyes wide as they settled on me. I could see the bitter resolve melting like sugar in water—delight overwhelmed her face. “Really?”

Big and Mikey would frantically call the hotel in search of me, and when they’d find me later, I’d get another lecture about how important this fight was for my career, how I couldn’t ‘fuck around’ anymore. Have some responsibility, pretty boy. You gonna be somebody’s bitch your whole life? Fuckin' pussy. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

“Yeah, angel. Grab your stuff, come on.”

♡ ♡

The 'market' reeked of fish.

But Libby walked around, paper cup of gelato in hand, licking spoonfuls as she wandered from stands of fish to tables of beaded jewelry, eagerly soaking in the chaotic sounds and scents of the market. My sunglasses did little to combat the thumping in my temples, but I did my best to grit my teeth and endure the overwhelming stimulations. I knew when she found the corner of leather-bound books and handmade bookmarks that we'd be there a while.

When she began to protest the appearance of my wallet and the stack of cash headed the merchant's way, I pinched her lips between my fingers and kissed the tip of her nose. Her arms found their way around my stomach, cheek pressed to my back, and as the merchant wrapped her new books and journal in paper, she just held me. Even against all the nautical stenches and earth shattering noises that amplified the pain in my head, I could've stood there all day just to feel her arms around me. When Libby hugged me, she really hugged me. With all her strength, a pressure both comforting and soothing. She made sure I knew she was there.

"I need to get this fuckin' fish smell off me," I grumbled on the way into the hotel room, kicking the door shut behind us.

Libby flopped on the neatly-made, discarding her purse to the side before scrambling to unfold the paper around her books. She'd sit and admire them for hours if she could, cooing about the 'craftsmanship' of the leather and its 'embossment,' fawning over the color they chose to stain it with. She once spent forty-five minutes in an aisle of pens to find the perfect one, and came away with a regular old black ballpoint that she claimed 'had the perfect run.'

I never understood what Libby was talking about, but fuck did I love her.

"Okay. Wanna order some room serv—"

The phone on the nightstand shrilled, and Libby rolled onto her side to pluck it from the cradle. "Hello? Oh, hi, Mom!"

I inched toward the bathroom, hand still on the doorknob. Libby took her new journal in her hand and grinned, running her fingers over the spine. Her mouth moved like a motor, gushing over the hours spent in the market. I pushed the bathroom door open and glanced over just once more in time to see her nose scrunch with a giggle. She caught my eyes in the sliver of the door before it shut and grinned.

I thought about that smile the whole time in the shower. I ached at the image of it behind my eyes. I listened as closely as I could over the patter of the water to catch every giggle that I could.

Dripping across the tiles, I ruffled a towel through my hair and avoided looking into the mirror as I approached the sink. Libby's bag of makeup sat on its side atop the marble. I fingered through the tubes and compacts until I found a familiar tube of lotion. I plucked it out, sniffed the cap, and paused. Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy. One day, Libby put too much in her palms, and swiped them over mine to share the creamy mixture. The scent lingered for hours, left my hands soft and smelling like Libby. Dad would've kicked my ass for something like that. I tossed the lotion back and yanked open the door.

"Steve! We have neighbors!"

Libby skittered toward the window, running along the length of the glass to draw the drapes shut. I shrugged, bending toward the luggage to rifle through my clothes. "Free show for them."

Libby shook her head, sliding back onto the bed, lounging on her stomach. Despite her temporary irritation with me, I could see her head tipping and her eyes wandering in the corner of my eye as I pulled a t-shirt over my head and sweatpants over my hips. I shuffled toward the bed, coming to a stop with my neglected hard-on placed in front of her.

"You gotta pay the toll though," I told her, cupping my hand under her chin to give it a squeeze.

Libby giggled, shoving my hand away. "You're so gross."

I pouted. "Thought you liked my dick in your mouth, baby."

She shot to her knees on the bed, jaw dropping. "Steve." A laugh rattled my name.

I curled a finger toward me, reaching for her arm when she didn't move fast enough. "C'mere, want a kiss."

Libby's smile smoothed. "Wait, I gotta tell you something. My mom called, she said..."

She captured her lip between her teeth and dropped her eyes toward my chest. Every alarm in my head started ringing. Did someone get hurt? Did they tell her to come home? Did they tell her to leave me?

"What?"

Libby pushed up on her knees, bringing her hands to my shoulders. They rubbed and squeezed, kneading and massaging in the way they only do when she's nervous to tell me something.

"She said she bumped into your mom at the store."

My eyes couldn't move from her face, pinched with worry. She rubbed harder, trailing her hands up the sides of my neck to cup my face.

"Steve?"

My mother. Blonde hair wound up, green eyes, silver watch, the stench of red wine, the sharp snap of a pill case. She stopped calling me Steve at nine years old. Steven came with a venom spit like pills pinging across the tile of the bathroom floor. Vomit in the toilet. My mother was much heavier than I thought she’d be. She begged me not to tell dad. Her green eyes wore a purple ring for a week when he found out.

“My mother,” I echoed.

Libby nodded. The image of her in front of me blurred, like she was standing behind frosted glass. “I just…thought you’d want to know. I know you don’t…talk to them, or about them. But I just—Steve?”

Libby smelled like all the good things in life. Her hands were soft and warm and so much smaller than mine, and I always wanted them on me. But right now, it was getting hard to breathe. Her hands were strangling me. My defenses were rattled. I was twelve years old covering my ears in my closet, screaming into a baseball jersey.

I shoved at Libby's hands, tearing them away from me. She sank down to her heels again, but the image of her in my periphery became a blob when I began to pace. The room no longer smelled like all things good and Libby—it smelled like that house. That god awful fucking house in Indiana. When I felt like dying, the world always smelled like that house.

"Steve? Hey, just...talk to me, baby, please." That cottony voice tickled my ears, but it couldn't penetrate the fog.

I paused in front of the mini bar. The little bottles of liquor enticed me. My mother's poison was wine and pills. My father's was whiskey. Sober or drunk, they were always the same.

"Steve?"

When I got a little tipsy, I started to hear their words coming out of my own mouth. Don't be such a fuckin' pussy. What are you good for? Pretty boy, pretty boy, pretty boy.

I couldn't be around Libby right now. I didn't want her to see me like this. I turned to make for the door, but she was on me—scurrying from the bed and tripping over her bare feet to place her hands on my chest.

"Hey, hey, baby, please. Y-you're scaring me, I...what can I do?"

I kept my eyes above her head, on the exit in sight. One look into those eyes and I'd sink to my knees, spill all my secrets. I couldn't look weak in front of her. Pretty boy. She'd never see me as anything but some whiney little puppy, something broken to be fixed. I didn't need anyone to fix me. I didn't need anyone to help me. Pretty boy. I was doing just fine on my own. I'm not weak. I'm not weak.

"Do you want to talk about i—"

"—no."

Libby's hands felt so heavy on my chest. "Steve," she sighed, but there was an edge to it, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

I knew the moment I looked at her that whatever face I was making pierced her with hurt. Her eyes welled in the way they do only when I make her cry. I wish I didn't do that.

"I don't need your fuckin' help." I said it too mean. I always do.

My fists were buzzing with the telltale thrum of restlessness. They needed to feel impact, they needed to hit. I could only take so many before I started needing to make some myself. Getting hit didn't feel nearly as good as hitting back. In boxing, I got to do both.

"Why are you acting like this? Steve, just...talk to me, please. I'm begging you—"

Oh god. "Oh, God, Libby, what the fuck? Don't—don't do that!"

The room seemed to be shaking. The way it used to shake when Dad started hitting and I knew I could hit back, I envisioned all the ways I should hit back, but my arms were limp. The way it used to shake when I tried to clean Mom up once Dad's car left the driveway, but she screamed until I thought my ears would bleed.

"Do what? Steve, please, I'm just trying to help you—"

The image of her standing in the middle of the hotel room sliced through me, but the words were already shooting out of me. The edges of the room were already turning black. I couldn't stop the rattling in my chest.

"—well stop! I don't want your help—I don't need your help, Elizabeth."

For a while, all I heard were the huffs of my own breath. I'd never seen Libby so motionless, not even in her sleep. She twitched, her eyes roamed behind her eyelids, her feet kicked beneath the covers. Now, she did nothing but blink and breathe, and stare at me.

"I won't love half a man, Steve."

My chest moved with such force under each breath that I could see every rise and fall beneath my nose. Libby's nostrils flared. Her eyes welled with tears.

"That's what you are. Look at you, Steve—you're hiding. All this time, you've been hiding this other part of you. And I can't...I can't just...wait around forever until you figure it out on your own. You're not on your own. We're partners, Steve, you and me. But you never talk to me."

A sour taste arrived in my mouth. I hadn't thrown up since I got food poisoning in eighth grade. Right now, I was coming close. I didn't know what to say, or how to say it. How could I make this better? How could I fix it? Would she leave me now?

"You think about that," she insisted, pointing a polished finger my way.

The bathroom door slammed closed, the muffled rummage of drawers and cabinets opening following suit. The rumble of water filling the tub came after. I found the edge of the bed with slow steps, desperate for some sort of softness. The brightness of the room brought the pain back to my eyes. My own voice, screaming at an octave I now became embarrassed of, made my head feel swollen and tender. I flinched when the water sloshed on the other side of the door.

"Steve?"

The room was so quiet. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep. Not until I felt something soft beneath my cheek, and something small rocking my shoulder. The brightness had dimmed to a purplish light, beaconing over my feet at the end of the bed. Libby smelled freshly cleaned, like hotel soap and her face cream. Her lips left a minty imprint on my cheek.

"You okay? I can get your medicine if your head hurts—"

The pain had simmered to a dull ache. All I wanted was her in my arms. I found her in the darkness, wrapping my hand around her arm and giving it a pull until she flopped onto the other side of me. I yanked her against me like she'd been gone for years. It was selfish, I know. But all I needed was her. I hoped she understood that I was sorry.

"Just want you."

Libby pressed her nose to my throat. It felt like an icicle. "Okay."

I never understood how she could forgive me that easy. I'm still trying to forgive myself for half the shit I did to her.

"I don't like talking about them. They're...they're shit excuses for parents."

Libby rubbed her nose against my throat. I let my eyes sink closed, chin resting atop her head. "It's just me, Stevie. And no matter what you tell me, it's never gonna change how I feel about you. Alright?"

I'd never believe that. "Okay. And I'll...I'll tell you all about it, just..."

"At your own pace."

I nodded, pressing my hand to her back to bring her closer. I wasn't sure she could get any closer. "Yeah, at my own pace."

Libby latched her mouth onto my throat. A grunt stirred my cock in my pants. Her hands slid along my sides, still sporting bruises from the last match, and I fell to my back. Her weight pressed down on me, knees bookended on either side of my torso. Her hair tickled my cheeks as her mouth dampened my neck. Her ass fit perfectly in my palms, enough to squeeze and slap. She jerked against me when my hand came down in even the gentlest pat.

"Let me take care of you," tickled my throat.

I nodded, cock aching and straining against the thin cloth of my sweatpants. She knew just where to fix me—where to wrap her hand and squeeze.

"I'm sorry, angel," I gasped, stuttering around the firm glide of her hand up my shaft.

Libby kissed across my jaw. "I know. Just let me take care of you, Steve."

I could do that. I could be taken care of. In her hands, I was safe.

♡ ♡

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yelenasdiary · 8 months

Note

could you do a yelena royalty au?

yelena’s not the crown princess so her role in the royal family is to marry well and make connections with other influential families.

(nats already married to wanda (the second child of the sokovian royal family))

reader is either just a diplomats daughter and yelena isn’t allowed to marry her but falls in love when reader spends so much time at yelenas home, OR reader is from a very influential family and yelena is pushed to marry her even though she doesn’t want to marry anyone.

idk if you’ll find this interesting but i love the idea

One Day At A Time

Pairing: Princess! Yelena x Princess! Reader

Summary: Life for Yelena is changing as she is pushed to marry another princess from another royal family.

Angst | Teeny Tiny Fluff | Forced Marriage | 1.3K |

AC: This is my first royal AU! I hope you like this & I do apologise if the setting wasn’t that great! I am open to a part 2 of this, if you or somebody else has an idea! X

"Do not argue this Yelena! We need you to do this." Alexei spoke sternly, his wife Melina beside him nodding her head in agreement. "Natasha is married to Wanda, surely that I more than we need!" Yelena couldn't help but bit back at her father.

Melina stood up from her chair before Alexei snapped in anger, "Yelena, take a walk with me" she insisted. The blonde rolled her eyes before following her mother down the hall and into the garden.

"I know this isn't easy for you and you don't want to marry but sometimes in life, we have to do things we don't want to do. We don't do this out of hate, we do this to help. We want to leave you girls with everything you'll ever need and maybe one day you'll pass that onto children of your own" Melina spoke, earning yet another sigh from her youngest daughter.

"I simply do not care to marry. I am happy with my life the way it is. Things might have been easier for father when it came to Natasha but she was already in love. You are asking me to marry somebody I have never met" Yelena explained.

"You know, I never met your father either" the two walked through the garden at a calm pace, "I was forced to marry him to save his fathers kingdom" the brunette added.

"But you seem so in love with him" Yelena frowned.

Melina chuckled, "over time, yes, I fell for him and his kindness. Then we took you girls in and I was glad I married him. I'm not saying it will be the same for you but family is the most important thing"

"You mean the kingdom is the most important thing" Yelena once again rolled her eyes. Melina stopped in her tracks and turned to Yelena, gently brushing her thumb over her daughter's cheek. "Do you remember when you were young and would play pretend with Natasha?" She asked. Yelena nodded, "that is all we are asking. Marry this princess & play your role as her wife when it sees fit. Other than that, you are free to do anything within reason"

Yelena sighed heavily knowing there was no way out of the situation. "Fine, I'll do it" she said with defeat, her mother smiled softly and placed a kiss on her cheek "you're a good girl Yelena"

——

The wedding was a grand party for all who attended but Yelena and yourself. A few soft, friendly smiles shared between you both and a quick "I do" but neither of you seemed happy about the arrangement. Unlike Yelena, you had enough energy to smile and look like you were enjoying yourself, it wasn't the first time you had to attend an event you wished to avoid.

To both of your relief, night came quickly and the wedding wrapped up eventually. You were staying 1 night at your wife's kingdom before the two of you would make the travel back to your kingdom.

"You may take the bed" the Russian spoke, breaking the silence in her bedroom. It was the first time you heard her accent, it was thick but you liked it.

"Oh, please, don't be silly. I'll take the settee" you replied. "This is your kingdom, your bed" you added.

"You're my guest, it's only right for you to have the bed"

"Wife..technically…we'd share the bed but I feel that both of us didn't like this arrangement. So to save an argument, I'll take the settee. When we return to my kingdom, we shall take turns. Does that seem fair?"

The blonde didn't say a word in reply, she nodded before excusing herself to change into her night gown.

You lay awake thinking of this new life your parents married you into. It was clear the woman you married was not a fan of you just as much as you were of her.

"Did your father force you to marry as well?" Yelena's voice broke your train of thought.

"Yes. I mean no offence by my answer, but I did not wish for this" you replied in a soft tone.

"It's okay" you heard the woman sit up in her bed, "I didn't want to get married at all" she admits. You took the opportunity to sit up and face her for the late night conversation. Looking at her, she seemed different than before.

"Do you not believe in love?" You asked.

"I have no reason to believe that love is real" the blonde replied with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Love is all around you, your parents love you, your sister loves you" you reminded her.

"That's not what I meant. Have you ever met your person? The one you would do anything for? How are we supposed to love freely now? We are in an arranged marriage, do you know how badly it would look if it was known that one of us was fooling with somebody else?" Frustration filled her voice, the same frustration you had expressed to your father when he told you that you'd be marrying somebody you'd never met.

"No, but I believe that love comes unexpectedly, my parents married just like us but they found love in each other over time an-"

"If you think I'm going to fall in love with you over years of this joke of a marriage, you are wrong. I am happy on my own and I hope that you will understand that" Yelena snapped, interrupting you as she jumped out of bed and grabbed her robe before turning to you, "I will play the role of your wife when needed but I do not wish to know you outside of that" she added before leaving the room, the door slamming shut.

----

The next day, the only time Yelena would talk to you was when others were around and when you were both alone, it was silent. She was mad but so were you, you just had a different way of dealing with it. The journey back to your kingdom was silent, only words were spoken to the guards that accompanied that two of you, Yelena could barely look at you and when she did, all you could see was anger.

Once you both arrived at your kingdom, you requested that the guest room would be made up for your wife, explaining to your mother that you planned on doing things differently and that you wanted to give the Russian space and time to process things.

"I thought you might find it a better fit if you had your own room" you spoke to her, breaking the almost endless silence between you two. Yelena finally looked at you for longer than a second, "You do not have to do anything that you don't want too. If you rather eat your meals alone, that is okay. You are free to make this your home as well, as hard as I know this is not your true home, I am glad to have you here" you added.

"Thank you" she replied. You gave her a light nod, "if you need anything, I will be in my painting room" you turned to walk away.

"You paint?" Yelena asked, stopping you from taking another step. You turned around to look at her once more, "I do, do you like art?" you questioned.

"I also paint, sometimes" she replied with the smallest smile tugged at her lips.

"Would you like to join me?" you asked.

Yelena took a moment to think about it before nodding slightly, "sure" she spoke before following behind you. It may take some time but you hoped that with each passing day, Yelena would open up to you more and maybe a friendship could form.

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #yelena belova #fanfiction #marvel #yelena belova x reader

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anki-of-beleriand · 8 months

Text

Under the storm

Summary: You wish hating Wanda for what she made you feel was far easier, perhaps next time you would be finally ready to end her. Or she would be ready to put you out of your misery.

Warnings: Angst, drama, unrequited love, so much drama and angst. misunderstandings, suicidal thoughts.

Pairings: Jedi!Wanda x Sith!Reader

Author's Note: I just watched Ahsoka and I thought it was fantastic but it made me think of this. Hope you guys like it, rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so I apologise for any grammar, spelling and funny mistake.

Thunder fell upon the earth, striking the land with purplish light while igniting the sky above your head. Your lips quirked upwards, your hand grasping the hilt of your lightsaber tightly just as the dark hood of your robe covered your face.

The gusty wind pushed at the slopes of your clothing, and the only sound was that of howling weather that had left you and her alone in the shipyard. You tilted your head, the Force allowing you to sense her fear and hesitation.

Another lightning breaking up the darkness surrounding you, the cold water of rain making your clothing heavier and difficult to handle. Not that you two were moving at all, both of you had been standing like this ever since the rain started falling. Bickering back and forth was easier than actually standing against one another, knowing that this battle would end in one way.

Wanda slid her right foot, her stance changing ever so slightly while her left hand went upwards with her own weapon held in a tight grip. Her green eyes found yours, and your heart almost skipped a beat at the sight you had always loved. She was still your greatest regret, the one person you went down a path many thought was full of darkness.

The way of the Sith was not as simple as that.

You had learnt that the hard way.

Wanda opened her mouth, but as soon as she did, she clamped her lips close shaking her head. Regret. And you clenched your jaw because the sight of such an emotion, of her stepping back made your heart hurt; she was never brave enough to finally take a leap of fate and go with you.

But as soon as the world changed, she found someone to do the very same thing you hoped for.

It wasn’t about the relationship; it was about you.

You were in love with her, but she wasn’t in love with you.

You snarled looking away before striking forward, the red saber clashing against her blue one. Sparks flew around mixing up with the drops of water falling on you, the hood finally falling to your back, and your eyes just as angry as they had been on your last meeting.

You pushed forward, and Wanda stepped back, her hand trembling but holding the hilt firmly. She couldn’t hide her sadness, and this only made you angrier, sweeping around kicking her on her stomach while striking her with the saber once more.

Sparks filled the stormy night, the humming of the swords breaking into the thunder while your eyes locked of those of Wanda trying to understand when your love for her turned into such a hatred.

“Y/N…” She mouthed, and you could almost hear her voice calling out to you just moments before you turned your back to her and run towards the man you ended up calling Master.

The crimson red of your sword igniting your face, your lips showing off a mocking smirk while your hand stretched to Force push the woman in front of you. You had always been great with your fighting style, much better than Wanda but there was no mistaken the young woman had practiced as well. There is another clash of weapons, and just as you trusted your hand forward, Wanda did the same and the Force used by the both of you created a space between you.

You took a deep breath trying to calm down your beating heart, the rumbling of the storm deafening the sounds around you. Wanda softened her features, her hand lowering the saber while her eyes tried to reach out yours. You could feel her presence around you, her willingness to just stop this madness and talk to you. You closed up the link she was trying to open, shaking your head knowing you were out here buying time for your master to get the map.

“Y/N…”

You could hear her voice in your mind, and in a desperate attempted to shut her up you launched another attack never noticing the blast of a gun until it hits your shoulder.

You screamed in pain, your right feet stumbling and almost making you fall. Your left hand stretching around grabbing the lightsaber before blocking the blasting of the invisible gun, Wanda screaming out for the person to stop shooting losing her sight on you while trying to stop the whole madness.

You saw the opening, and without thinking too much went at it again.

The slash itself didn’t hurt you at first, you stood there with your eyes wide open and the world stopping around you.

The only thing you were aware of was your hard breathing, and the sudden lack of light from your right eye. Then, the piercing pain on your face and shoulder, and finally the scream leaving your mouth as you fell to the ground.

Wanda was looking at you wide eyes, her lightsaber still humming furiously pointed directly at you.

“Wanda! Kill her!”

She could hear the voice of Vision inside the com, the urgency in his voice but Wanda was not able to move at all. You put your hand on your now bleeding face, your good eyes glaring at her with anger and disbelief.

“Not today, Princess.” You gritted your teeth, standing weakly before Wanda.

Your free hand clenching in thin air, suing the Force as your ally to tighten Wanda’s throat and pulled her to you. The other woman was breathing as hard as you were, and you let her see the nasty wound on your face, the blood and the lost eye. Your lips broke into a nasty smile.

“Enjoy your fuck toy while you can, Jedi.” You snarled and Wanda saw the tears you had been hiding, she saw the pain and the betrayal and the brokenhearted pain of unrequited love.

And Wanda wished she was not so weak, she wished she could tell you that she loved you. That she was pretty much in love with you, but she couldn’t, she just couldn’t let her beliefs aside to go with you when the whole universe depended on the few standing Jedi to help it out. To once more, became the Galaxy a place of peace and justice.

You tightened your hold on her, your body ready to give in. Your wounds hurting all over, the blood pouring out from your shoulder and eyes, you could sense your Master coming forward as much as you could sense the other Rebels coming for Wanda.

“We…we will see each other once more.” You whispered, putting Wanda’s head down and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Next time, your better pierce my heart or else, I will destroy everything you hold dear, Wanda. I will make you feel the pain I went through the day you broke my heart.”

You put your saber right through her side, making sure you didn’t touch any vital organs before stepping aside on wobbly legs. Your body ready to give up until you saw the ship flying towards you, your smirked watching everyone coming forward. Natasha running as fast as she could her eyes on you, her mouth forming your name with her lips.

You scoffed turning around, wincing as you approached the sentinel class craft, the escorting TIE firing to the enemy giving you enough time to go inside your escape route.

You left your former life behind, falling to your knees, you allowed the droids to drag you to the medical bay while your Master ranted about the mission and how foolish you had been for falling into such a childish game.

You didn’t listen, your mind still on the fight. On Wanda.

“Detka…”

Her voice reaching out to you, you closed your eyes.

“I will make you regret the pain you caused me, Wanda…”

“Detka, please…come back…”

“Next time, Wanda, kill me. Please just kill me, or I will end him and everyone else around you…”

And with those last words, you closed the link, the world around you going dark as you finally lose consciousness.

#personal #fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #Jedi!wanda xSith!Reader

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vampirecorleone · 9 months

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"I was pregnant with your baby. I never wanted to be a mother. I loathed the feeling of it growing inside me. Felt that sickness. Pulling, sucking on me like some needy animal in a barn. How could I be responsible for another life? Life terrifies me. It's harsh, and bleak, and draining. I was so relieved when it died. It was one less weight keeping me here but then the war came and you left me too. Why did you leave me, Howard? I hate feeling like this. It's so pathetic. Do people like you ever feel this way? Figure you don't... you seem so perfect all the time. Lord must have been generous to you. He never answers any of my prayers. I don't know why. What did I do? What is wrong with me? Please just tell me so I can get better. I don't wanna end up like Mama I wanna be dancing up on the screen like the pretty girls in the pictures. I want what they have so badly... to be perfect... to be loved by as many people as possible to make up for all my time spent suffering. Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and a fear washes over me 'cause what if this is it? What if this is right where I belong? I'm a failure. I'm not pretty, or naturally pleasant, or friendly. I'm not smart, or funny, or confident. I'm exactly what Mama said I was: weak. But I don't know why. What did I do? Why wasn't my family like yours? I hate what it feels like to be me and not you. I'm so scared that when you finally come home you'll see me and be frightened like everyone else is. I know what I've done. Bad things. Terrible, awful, murderous things. I regret them now, but I liked how they felt. I wish I didn't, but I did. At first, it was only animals smaller than myself. Nothing with feelings, nothing that could hurt me back. Felt good. Killing's easier than you'd think. 'Til recently with Mama and the boy from the picture house - they were different. They were more meaningful. I hurt them so they too might know what it feels like to suffer, but poor Daddy didn't deserve that. I wish I hadn't done what I did. Mama meant well. She had a hard life. She only wanted a home to feel safe in, I can see that. I thought I hated her, but I just wanted to feel safe too. My Lord. I made such a mess of things. I don't know how much more I can take. I need to clean this up. All of it. I need to make things right before you see me again. Maybe if I could turn this farm into a home just like you wanted, things will finally be different. I can forgive. I can be who you want me to be. If you'll just stay with me. Would you do that, please? I can't be all by myself anymore. It's too hard."

Pearl (2022) dir. Ti West

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lulublack90 · 10 days

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Prompt 18 Neighbour AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 18, word count 991

Remus Lupin had one asset, and that was his parent’s house. It was in the middle of the Welsh countryside. It was a mile walk to the little village, and the only thing it had going for it was the barn. It was light and airy and smelled of wood.

Remus had spent a lot of time and effort converting it into a liveable space. The idea had been to sell it, but no one was interested in living so far away from the major cities. So, under the advice of his estate agent, he rented it out for short holidays.

So far, it had been quite lucrative. With the money he made from that and his own job, he could afford chocolate whenever he wanted.

The holiday season was coming, and he already had two weeks booked out. He tended to get a lot of city dwellers looking to get away from it all or families trying to get back to their roots.

He checked his emails one morning with a fresh cup of tea and a plate of crumpets. HE filtered out the junk and found an inquiry email in his barn folder. He opened it.

A man was looking to hire the barn for the full summer and all of September as well. He was looking at three months of solid booking. It was a shame he couldn’t offer it, having already booked those two weeks. And he refused to let down his other guests. He typed a reply stating as much. He got a reply back almost instantly, asking if there was somewhere he could pitch a small tent. Mr Black said he would gladly still pay full price while his other guests used the barn. Remus couldn’t believe what he was reading. It seemed too good to be true. He sent a couple of pictures of his personal garden. The views weren’t as good, but it would be sheltered from the worst of the wind, and he could use Remus’s garden furniture. Again, the reply was quick. The man agreed and said he hoped he wouldn’t be any bother.

Remus sent an invoice and got Mr Black to confirm he agreed to the price, and with the confirmation, he booked out the three months. He sat back with a pleased look on his face as he finished his crumpets. He just hoped that Mr Black would be a good neighbour as it was a long time to deal with a terrible guest.

July arrived, and with it, a sleek black motorbike and an equally sleek owner. Sirius, as he demanded to be called, settled in instantly. He played his music a little loudly, but as it was to Remus’s taste, he decided to enjoy it.

Remus found he quite enjoyed Sirius’s company, and they spent nearly every night in Remus’s garden drinking beers. Remus had even started making enough dinner for Sirius, though Sirius had told him he didn’t expect it but did appreciate it as he was useless at cooking.

It turned out that Sirius needed a break from his high-pressure job, which was why he’d come to Remus’s.

“I hate it. It’s been my life since my mother found out she was pregnant with me. They own the company now, but my brother and I run it. He’s so much better at it than I am, and I swear he’d have such an easier time at it if I quit.” Sirius had admitted to him one August afternoon.

“Then why don’t you quit?” Remus asked as though it were an obvious solution.

“Everything I own is tied up in the company. If I leave, I lose everything.” He shrugged. “My parents made sure it was that way after I went through a rebellious streak in my teenage years.”

“That’s terrible, Sirius. I wish I could help.” And Remus found he meant it.

“Don’t fret about it. I’ll muddle through.” Sirius beamed at him as he patted Remus’s leg. “Right, enough feeling sorry for myself. I’m off for a walk. Care to join me?” Remus couldn’t think of any reason not to, so he took the proffered hand, and they strolled towards the village.

Remus showed Sirius some of his favourite childhood haunts just off the beaten track, and they spent a wonderful afternoon in the thick foliage.

Soon, the first week came around when Sirius would have to sleep in his tent. And, of course, the worst storm to hit Wales in over a hundred years decided to arrive that night.

The trees were whipping back and forth, creaking and groaning. The fence surrounding Remus’s garden swayed dangerously. Remus refused to let Sirius stay out in this. He flung open the back door and yelled into the downpour.

“Sirius! Sirius!” A face popped out of the zippered entrance of the tent. “Get in here!” Sirius shook his head.

“I’m all good. Don’t fret.”

Lightning cut across the sky, lighting the dark ground with its answering thunder not far behind.

“Sirius, please! I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re out here!”

Suddenly, Sirius was streaking across the lawn and ran straight into Remus’s arms, knocking the lanky man back a few steps. Lighting flashed across the sky again and then another and another. The last bolt hit the cherry blossom tree in Remus’s garden, and a huge branch fell off and crushed the tent Sirius had been in moments before.

“Yeah, probably a good call that Remus,” He joked. “Shall I put the kettle on?” Remus decided, not that he had much choice, that Sirius would be staying in his spare bedroom for the remainder of the two weeks. Maybe longer if the look Sirius was giving him meant what Remus thought it did. That night, they sat, snuggled up together on Remus’s tiny sofa in front of a roaring fire, sipping mugs of hot chocolate and listening to the storm wailing around them.

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24hlevi · 5 months

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— 25 Days Of Winter: Fake Dating For Christmas Family Reunion

lottie matthews (yellowjackets) x gn!reader

summary: your parents won't stop asking if you're dating anyone, you accidentally say you are just to shut them up. until they want to meet said partner during the christmas reunion. so you convince your friend, lottie, to fake dating you for the day.

warnings: none!

25 days of winter event

"you want me to what?" lottie asked you with complete confusion and shock.

"it's just for the day, please. my parents won't stop bugging me about it," you pleaded with her.

"but why me?" she questioned.

"because they already love you so it'll be much easier than some random person i bring who they will probably hate," you answered truthfully, just leaving out a certain part that she didn't need to know of. "plus, i think it'd be nice if you spent christmas with my family this year." you smiled.

"i mean, yeah sure, i guess," lottie nodded her head.

"you're a lifesaver, lotts!" you hugged her tightly.

"it's no problem," lottie replied, hugging you back. "so then i'll come over in the morning?"

"that'd be great," you nodded with a smile.

"okay," lottie smiled back.

that weekend was christmas, and as soon as you woke up your parents were asking if your partner was going to be coming. you told them yes, and they kept insisting that you at least tell them who it is before the rest of the family arrives. you didn't, though. why? well, maybe because the reason you asked lottie of all your friends was because she was the one you had a crush on. you were mentally praying that it would work in your favor, but you never know what could happen.

a few hours later, the rest of your family arrived and was all talking amongst each other in the living room. suddenly, you heard the doorbell ring and assumed it was lottie.

"i'll get it!" you called out over everyone talking, rushing to the door.

you opened the door and it indeed was lottie standing there, wearing a pink top with a white skirt. "hey! thank you again for doing this for me."

"of course," lottie smiled as you let her inside.

as soon as you closed the front door, your parents left their current conversation to jump over to you, seeing lottie and immediately both of them grinned.

"y/n, dear! why didn't you tell us it was lottie you were dating?!" your mother asked almost accusingly but with a light joking tone.

"well..." your voice trailed off, not being able to come up with an answer. luckily, lottie managed to save you with her own response.

"we were just worried of telling anyone, even my own parents don't know yet. but they're gone for christmas this year so y/n invited me to celebrate with you and your family as their girlfriend," lottie smiled at your parents.

"oh honey, we would never be upset with you about this!" your father said to you. "i'm so thankful it's you, lottie, of all people. i was more worried of y/n dating some delinquent. but you're the best choice for them," he then said to lottie.

a bright red blush made its way on lottie's face as she chuckled awkwardly, avoiding your parents gazes. "i appreciate the words, sir," she replied politely.

"come meet the rest of the family, dear," your mother waved her hand and started to walk away, signaling for you and lottie to fillow.

you and lottie both glanced at each other, now realizing what you two had just gotten into, before she grabbed your hand and gently squeezed it, sending a wink your way and then pulling you with her to follow your mother.

the next hour felt like a blur for you which was mainly spent with some sort of cider in your hand watching lottie talk with your relatives. her hand hadn't let go of yours, and you thought she wouldn't notice if you pulled your hand away because you realized you were sweating, but she swiftly grabbed your hand again and intertwined her fingers with yours. you wished the blush on your face wasn't too obvious, but that unfortunately wasn't the case since your uncle called you out for it right before exiting the conversation.

"y/n, are you alright?"

you were shaken out of your thoughts by lottie's words, and you nodded your head. "yeah, yeah i'm fine. this just exhausts me every year, don't worry about me," you replied.

"are you sure?" she asked with genuine concern.

"yeah," you nodded again. trying to not think of all the different thoughts running through your brain was difficult, and you were honestly getting tired of lying to your family about dating lottie. it's not like it would ever happen in the first place, you believed.

"do you want to go to your room?" lottie then asked.

"what?" you responded with confusion.

"come on," lottie said before pulling you away from the living room and towards the stairs.

you couldn't believe you were getting dragged around in your own house, but with lottie coming over on multiple different occasions, she knew how to get around the place. not that you minded it was her doing it of all people. you didn't.

the two of you made it to your room and sat down on your bed, a silence filling the room.

"are you sure you're okay?" lottie asked again.

"mhm," you hummed with a nod, clearly lying.

truthfully, you wanted to tell lottie the real reason why you asked her out of your friends, but you were afraid of it blowing up in your face and the worst time would be christmas. did anyone want to be crying on christmas? of course not. so, despite clearly lying, you still didn't tell her the truth.

"okay, i know something is wrong, y/n," lottie grabbed your hand gently. "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"i know," you agreed with a nod of your head. "i'm just...scared," you mumbled quietly.

"of what?" lottie questioned in confusion.

"your reaction..." you murmured even quieter. "lottie there-there's a reason i asked you to do this out of the others." you started, your eyes avoiding hers. "i've had this feeling for a long time, and i thought doing this would be easier for me to say it but it hasn't. i-i don't want you to react badly and-"

you were abruptly cut off from your words when lottie suddenly leaned closer to you and kissed you. your eyes went wide and remained wide when she pulled away, and a giggle came from her at your reaction.

"i had a feeling about why, so don't worry, cause i like you too, y/n," she smiled at you.

"really?" you asked in disbelief.

"yeah, since like sophomore year," lottie nodded.

"so does this mean i can stop lying to my family's faces now?" you asked in a light hearted tone.

"yep," lottie answered. "because now our anniversary will be on christmas, the day we officially became a couple."

"wicked."

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader #lottie x reader #yellowjackets imagine #25 days of winter event

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kerubimcrepin · 15 days

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Dofus: The Production - reviewing the artbook

This post won't go too deep in detail, it's just my commentary on the artbook — but the next (or, well, one after the next), post will be me doing some actual research outside of it. I recommend you to buy the artbook, and go see its contents for yourself, if you're curious about it. (or download it. It's been scanned to hell and back...)

God, this makes me deranged and insane. Even being baby does not stop Kerubim from loving Joris's jokes... I'm insane...

This part of the artbook has always scared me because like... Does he kill people in Dofus 2, Tot?. Does he.?

Epic events is a funny way to refer to this movie's unending barrage of traumatic events, but man, we were kinda robbed of cool draconic winged Joris. That's sad.

I won't include too much art from the artbook if I can help it, but I wanted to report that this is a very good art and theres a lot of love and um and they love each other and um and [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

I wish I knew what the fuck Tot meant by this. However, knowing that Pupuce is Kerubim's pet, who just liked her owner's kid more than her owner, has fueled some of my headcanons for years and years:

This version of his armour matches the one we could see in the Dofus Manga. :)

I find it quite fascinating that at one point, it was considered for Julith to be an osamodas huppermage, considering it was theorized for some time that Joris might be an osamodas.

I wouldn't call her a tender mother, but eh. She's more of a... "very loving yet despaired mother who doesn't even know her son" mother. A "wants to get back the past which will never return to the point of putting her son into the torture nexus" mother. A "has love in her that is so mentally disturbed" mother. AND I LOVE HER FOR IT!!

I know that her being an alcoholic is a retcon that Dessous did, but its such a good one. I think it's a good show of her decade of slow slippage of sanity. Comic retcons win over Tot's ideas for all Joris-related media once again.

This post was made by "I love Kerubim's dead family from Dofus Heroes Kerubim and Bakara Alcoholism Lore from Dessous de Dofus" gang.

These two huppermages from the movie's concept art were reused in season 4 of Wakfu. Though it would be easier to say what in season 4 of Wakfu isn't reused stuff considering the "shoestring and a piece of chewed gum" budget it was made on...

God, him petting a pupuce is the most important part of the artbook, save for perhaps...

THE KHAN & THE RED-LIGHT DISTRICT & JORIS UNDERAGE DRINKING SCENE

The fact that this was cut is the biggest personal tragedy of my entire life, and I am NOT joking.

Apparently, in this tavern, we were supposed to learn more of his backstory, — like how his father was a gobbowler, but sadly (or happily, if you really hate Khan) it was cut.

But listen. Khan would go to some sexworkers to stare at them and do nothing. He's that much of a loser. He would take a 10yo as his drinking buddy.

This is where my headcanon that he buys Joris booze post-movie comes from, btw.

Compared to the movie's exaggerated visions of Kerubim crying, these images feel like something Joris would remember seeing in real life, something he'd want to avoid.

It feels more real, than just his panicked visions.

#moviehistory #ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz

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reveluving · 2 years

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it matters to me ; bruce wayne x batmom reader

summary: you and Bruce spend the night together after his toughest week yet.

warnings: smut (minors DNI!), fluff (reverse comfort), mentions of bruises and violence

a/n: after my post about the lack of Batmom smut, you just know I had to do sumn ✋🏼😔 not much but definitely not my last! thank you & don't forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my batmom m.list, or my full m.list!

» smut includes; unprotected sex (p in v sex) in the bathtub, slight striptease, spanking, reverse cowgirl, soft!Bruce.

'His precious other half. The caring mother to his many children. The best daughter figure Alfred could've asked for.' ;

You could tell that something was bothering Bruce to the max. Hell, everyone in the house could tell. The way he zoned out at the dinner table, or the times you’ve caught him trying to control his anger whenever he was on the phone. You’ve read the news; Wayne Enterprises was under fire for a reason that you were pretty sure was the fault of the company it was working with. They weren’t even that big of a name, other than being from New York. Still, you shouldn’t be surprised by how much power the press had to manipulate the opinions of the public.

It was pretty obvious that Bruce was getting the short end of the stick, and has been for the past three days.

The next morning was no different. You almost didn’t want to wake him up by how peaceful he seemed. You took in his appearance, appreciating him at his most vulnerable and tranquil. You looked at the time, silently glad that he had over an hour before needing to get ready. So, you got out of bed as slowly and quietly as possible, tiptoeing to the bathroom to let your husband rest for a couple more minutes.

The hot shower did little to calm your nerves but it was worth trying. As soon as you were settled with your skincare routine and ready in your work clothes, you opened the door, disappointed to find Bruce sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Morning, you,” You walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and kissing him on the cheek, “I was hoping you’d still be asleep. I wasn’t going to wake you up until another ten minutes or so,”

“S’alright,” He yawned before giving you a tired smile, “Promised to meet up with Lucius first thing in the morning,” Two hours of sleep was definitely not ideal, more so when he came home from work and left to patrol without seeing you. Only when Tim had told him that he and Stephanie would have the situation under control until sunrise that he would return to the manor, finding you sound asleep but no one to hold. He didn’t sleep immediately, instead, holding you in his arms before letting his exhaustion take over, and that was around 4:57 a.m., “Thank you, though. You know I would’ve stay a little longer if it wasn’t for the meeting,”

“I know,” You twiddled your thumbs, “Just… Try not to overwork yourself, okay?”

You knew it was almost impossible to request such a thing from him.

“I’ll try,” It was the best response he could offer, knowing better than to lie by promising when he himself couldn’t help with the predicament he was in. He hated the fact that he couldn’t hide his emotions better. He knew vulnerability wasn’t a bad thing, or at least, not within the family, thanks to you. But as old habits die hard, it was easier said than done. Like anyone else, you had bigger problems to deal with, so the thought of dragging you to his ‘minor and avoidable problems’ just added to his guilt.

“Alright,” You answered, “I’ll see you downstairs?”

“See you in 15 minutes,” He nodded, pulling you in for a kiss before letting you go. It had you wishing for the universe to be fairer with the poor man. You forced yourself to leave the bedroom, but not before blowing him a kiss. You made your way to the kitchen, instinctively grinning at the voices of your children.

“Morning!” You chirped, earning different forms of answers from them, plus Alfred, who was washing the pans and utensils.

“Where’s father?” Damian asked before taking a spoonful of his cereal.

“Just woke up,” The dining room was suddenly silent, other than the sounds of you pouring tea into your cup. The way you seemed distracted clearly concerned them, their eyes darting from one another, “I’m worried about him,”

“You mean father?” You nodded.

“I’m sure you guys noticed how reserved he’s been for the past couple of days. More than usual, at least,” You’d be more surprised if they didn’t.

“We have. He’s been careless in patrols, too,” Thank goodness you weren’t drinking the second you heard that, or you would’ve spat it out.

“Careless?” The newfound information caused your stomach to drop. The fearful look on your face forced Duke to butt in and correct Damian.

“Well, we wouldn’t say ‘careless’,” Though it was a strong word to describe Bruce’s recent behaviour, the youngest wasn’t totally wrong, “But, yeah, we could tell he hasn’t been focusing. Taking more hits than usual,”

You knew it was bad but not this serious. You would think that with the stress he has been receiving from work, he’d be better at night by blowing off some steam on a bunch of criminals. Morbid, yes, but it made sense, right? Plus, it wasn’t like he was beating up some random civilian just because they had a punchable face or something.

Cass’ soft taps on your hand forced you out of your thoughts.

‘You think he’ll be okay?’ She signed, pitying both you and Bruce.

“I hope so,” A tight smile was all you could muster, though you didn’t have to guess that they knew better, “Don’t worry, I’ll try to think of something. Maybe a small talk before we go to bed,” You pursed your lips, “In the meantime, do me a favour and keep a close eye on him during patrols?”

Their thumbs-up did help you relax just a little. You had no doubt they’ve had Bruce’s back without needing you to tell them, but it was nice to hear from them every once in a while.

Today was going to be a long day for you in the café, and a longer day for Bruce in the office.

Just a day after Damian told you about Bruce’s lack of focus as Batman since the ordeal, you’ve begun noticing more bruises coming up. The ones on his face weren’t too visible, thankfully, but the ones littering his body from the neck down were too much for you to bear.

You had to do something, and it all started with a phone call.

Friday rolled around, and Bruce came home after dusk to a quiet manor.

“Mistress (Y/N) should be in her room,” Alfred reassured the man, though he didn’t mention the kids and closed the door behind him, “Dinner will be ready shortly,”

“Right, thanks,” There was something about the mention of ‘dinner’ that had him frozen midstep. He was beginning to feel like he had forgotten something but no matter how hard he tried to remember, nothing was clicking. Still, he tried his best, all while dragging his feet to his room, eager to greet his beloved after one of the worst weeks he has ever had.

“(Y/N)?” He pushed the door open, smiling when you coincidentally came out of the bathroom in a silky robe.

“You’re home!” You exclaimed, running over to him for a hug as soon as he came in. He reciprocated just as tightly, instantly relaxing as he inhaled the familiar scent of your hair. It was tough to think that he only had a couple of hours with you before needing to go out as the Dark Knight as usual, especially after all the shit he had to deal with, “I missed you,”

“I missed you too,” His heart clenched. There wasn’t a day where he hasn’t thought about you, how you were doing, and how much he was in deep water for the times where he was needed elsewhere. You were a patient woman, though Bruce had always thought you deserved someone better.

On a more selfish note, he was beyond thankful to have you, and he hoped you felt the same way.

“What have you been up to?” He pulled away, though he had his hands on your hips.

“Nothing much. Work is work but now, I’m pretty excited,” That piqued his interest.

“Oh? Why’s that?” He asked.

“‘Cause now, I get to spoil you!” He raised his eyebrows, “Because I may or may not have made changes to tonight’s plans?”

Tonight’s plans?

Oh.

“Shit,” He paled, “The dinner. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—” He rubbed his forehead, looking exasperated with himself, “Look, I'll go down and tell Alfred. We can still make it. Just give me—”

“I cancelled it,” You interrupted, watching his eye widen in surprise, “It didn’t feel right going when I know you’re not feeling okay, so I called the restaurant a few hours ago and changed it to another date,” You could tell by the guilt in his eyes that he wanted to retort, “Bruce, I’m not mad, I promise. I’m just worried about you. We’ve been worried about you,”

His grip tightened, not enough to hurt but it did act as an indicator that he was in need of support, in more ways than one, that is.

"It was nothing. I just thought I could handle it myself, y’know? Just until the press gets tired of the same news over and over," He shrugged, his nonchalance caused your cheeks to puff up.

“Bruce, it clearly wasn't 'nothing'. We’ve been through this, remember?” You tilted his chin, forcing him to look at you, “I didn’t stick around with a family of crime fighters for years just to blow a fuse at you for sharing your problems. If anything, I'm proud of you,"

Living in a city like Gotham, showing vulnerability to the public was the worst mistake one could ever make. Which is why when you came along, you taught them that at least within the family, it was nothing to be ashamed of. How it was normal to feel down and ask for help when the world was too much.

You thoroughly reminded them that it was okay to not be okay, no matter how 'little' the issue was.

It took a long time to teach him, as well as the others, but damn, it was definitely worth it.

"Let me help you the way you helped me," You embraced him ever so gently. You couldn't imagine a life without him, Alfred or your children. Even if you had the café, what happens after that?

Would there even be an 'after that' in the first place?

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already has, and yet, here he was.

His precious other half. The caring mother to his many children. The best daughter figure Alfred could've asked for.

A symbol of hope that keeps the Wayne's going.

His parents would've loved you.

"Would you let me treat you the way you deserve?" Oh, how he would've loved to submit to your desires. The desire to please him, so much so that he wished he could've skipped his duty for the night, "You don't have to go,"

It didn't take long for him to understand, looking down at you as a sign to continue.

"Believe it or not, Damian told the others about it. About how you couldn't even focus on patrols, and Jason was able to help out by being in charge for the night. Though, I'm pretty sure he's going to use the information as blackmail," You couldn't help the boxy smile when Bruce groaned, his ears turning red. Trust the kids to tell their older brothers about him getting beat up left and right in the most embarrassing way, "I saw the bruises, Bruce. You know I was going to find out one way or another,"

You rested your chin against his chest, staring up at him with such crestfallen eyes. It held love, too, but he didn't miss the way you were holding back your tears.

"Will you let me?"

A familiar sight, considering how he has been in your shoes before. When he begged to treat you the way you deserved, especially when you were at your lowest. Rare, but it has happened, and Bruce would do anything to help you back on your feet if it were to ever occur again.

"Only if I get to do the same for you," He whispered against your forehead, and you couldn't be any happier.

"Deal," You grinned before sealing his lips with yours.

You were glad you had everything ready. As soon as you and Bruce were able to talk it out, you brought him to the bathroom, showing him the bubble bath you've prepared.

"I may have gone overboard with the soap," You scooped up a handful of bubbles, holding them in between your hands, "It smells really good, though,"

"I don't mind," He chuckled, watching you appreciate the littlest things as usual, "Haven't had a good bath in a while. I'm pretty sure my showers only lasted around ten minutes since last week,"

"Well, that won't do," You pouted, beckoning him to you after shaking the bubbles off your hands, "Come on, I'll help you out of your clothes,"

He did as he was told, moving his arms and legs when necessary till he was completely naked. He noticed how you frowned for a split second, tensing up at the sight of his bruises, some darker than the other. You shook your head, preferring to focus on what mattered at the moment.

"Alright, handsome, in you go," One leg in and he was already sighing in relaxation before submerging himself in the mass of bubbles. He rolled his shoulders, placing both arms on the edge of the tub. His current state had you bouncing on the balls of your feet until he looked at you questioningly.

"Well?"

"Well what?" You questioned back.

"Aren't you going to come in here with me?" Oh?

"I…" You didn't think about that. Your initial plan was to sit on the edge of the tub, mostly to be able to wash his hair and back. Then again, Bruce's idea sounded a lot better, "If you want me to,"

He silently motioned for your hand, allowing him to cover yours in his larger one.

"I'd love that," You shuffled your feet against the cool tile, bashful by his small but sweet gesture before slowly taking off your robe. You let the material pool next to his set of clothes, earning you a whistle from your husband. He didn't expect the black bra and high-cut briefs and frankly, he didn't mind one bit.

But, he would much rather see them on the floor.

"Take them off for me," He requested, the tone much deeper as he let his eyes rake over your figure. His voice was hypnotizing, but you wanted to toy with him just for a little bit. You turned around, arching your back to accentuate the curve of your ass while removing your bra. From your peripheral vision, he had his head tilted back, watching you closely and dare you say, hungrily.

The bra dropped to the floor with a thud but you didn't turn around just yet. Instead, you traced your hands from the back of your neck, down to your sides and finally, to the band of your underwear. He may have gone through a lot this week, but you couldn't help but have him at your mercy.

"Please, baby," There it was. You smirked before taking it off, bending down as the finale of your act. Your ass was within arm's reach, and it didn't take long till you felt a light smack on your right cheek.

"Have I ever told you how cute your butt looks?" The way he massaged your flesh sent sparks up your spine. It was amusing to hear him say 'butt' instead of 'ass', meaning he was still in a softer mood.

Not for long.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Wayne," You playfully smacked his hand.

"Really? 'Cause flattery got me a beautiful woman in my hot tub. Well," He pursed his lips, "Or at least, she's supposed to,"

You scoffed, walking over to him with a sway of your hips. You couldn't resist teasing him a little more by bending at the side of his tub.

"So impatient," You batted your eyelashes, snapping your fingers in front of him when you knew he wasn't exactly looking at you, "Eyes up here, handsome,"

"Sorry. Well," He shrugged, "Not really," He gave you a small cheeky smile, contrasting the feigned annoyance on your face before offering you his hand, "Come here,"

He helped you in, wanting you to be as close as possible despite the size of the tub. He placed his chin on your shoulder, watching and laughing with you as you played with the bubbles. You turned your head a little, locking your eyes with his before kissing his nose.

"I love you," You whispered.

"I love you, too," He responded, nuzzling his face against you, "More than you can imagine,"

The intimacy of having his chest against your back, arms wrapped around you to be able to plant kisses on your neck and shoulder.

"Bruuuce," You whined, writhing in his hold, "You promised you'd let me spoil you,"

"You're already spoiling me by giving me a night in with you," He mumbled against your burning skin, "You can do whatever you want after this, but for now, just let me have you,"

His hands slid up your body, giving your breasts a firm squeeze. Your gasps echoed off the fancy bathroom walls, your hands above his when he rolled your nipples in between his fingers. Your legs straddled his, stopping you from ever closing them. Not when his cock was right below your aching cunt.

"Do you feel how hard I am for you?" He breathed out, "I don't deserve a woman as considerate as you and yet, here you are; checking up on me, convinced the kids so I can stay home, giving me a bubble bath,"

"I… I don't deserve you. G-Gotham doesn't deserve you," You corrected in between your mewls, "Giving y-your all to the city as b-both Bruce Wayne and Batman no matter how hard things get,"

He didn't reply, hoping to leave the banter out until much later. It wasn't that he hated it, if anything, he was absolutely touched. He knew denying it was completely out of the question, so he took it like a champ.

Just the way you wanted.

"Grind yourself against me," He rasped, feeling his length slide in between your lips. You obeyed, feeling desperate for him as much as he was for you. You rolled your hips against his, holding onto one of his legs for leverage, "That's it, don't stop,"

The splash and slosh of the bath as it spills out little by little was ignored by both you and your husband.

"Bruce, please… I need you inside me," Patience be damned, you weren't planning on cumming right then and there. You've been dying to have him split you in half for a while now.

"Go on," He urged, "Get on all fours and put it in,"

You didn't need to be told twice, your movements left your entire back exposed. The suds on your body, especially the ones decorating your ass was enticing, to say the least. You lined the tip of his member to your throbbing sex, sinking down onto it slowly with choked-out sobs.

"Slowly, slowly. There you go," He sighed, savouring the moments when you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," You drawled in a daze, stretching you open even if you were only midway. He was trying his hardest not to thrust all at once. You raised your hips, letting the very tip in before taking more of him. One of his hands slid up and down your spine, the slickness from the suds only encouraged you to go faster, especially when a sharp smack was landed on your ass, one on the left before moving to the right, "Fuck!"

He couldn't resist when the shine from the soap practically begged him to spank you.

"You like that?" The high-pitched 'mhm' prompted him to smirk, landing a couple more to hear you yelp at every touch. Once he figured you had enough, he cooed, "Think you can take more of me?"

Oh, you knew you could, you just needed a little more time to adjust.

You have yet to get used to the size of this man.

Your whines didn't stop, even when you had him all the way. Not only were you tightening around him every time you even thought about moving, but his hands were also holding you down, breathing deeply as your walls were pretty much choking him.

"Bruce, please! I can't—" You couldn't even finish your sentence, crying out in a way that you knew he wouldn't live it down when all of this was said and done. But, if it meant being able to please your man to the fullest, so be it, "I w-want you to cum in me,"

Fuck.

"How can I say no to that?" Without a single warning, he practically jackhammered into you, the sudden roughness caused the lukewarm water to splash out much more. The breathy moans that were coming from both of you are haunting in the most beautiful way possible. You'd probably be reminded of this very night from then on.

"O-oh, fuck, right there!" You tried to match his pace, hoping to ignore how shaky your legs were in favour of chasing your orgasm. The speed was almost unrelenting, as if he was finally letting his frustrations out, more so when you squeaked at a particular spot. A spot only he could ever find, "I-I'm going—! Bruce!"

"Do it!" He rasped, unable to hold it in any longer, "Fucking cum right now!"

You nearly squirmed away, letting out a long, dragged moan as you gushed around his cock. He didn't stop, nails digging deeper into your hips to help you reach your high before milking every last drop of his cum. You could've drowned momentarily when your elbows buckled, only to be pulled into Bruce's chest thanks to his reflexes.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, shuddering every time he moved in and out of you at a much slower speed. Your oversensitive lips had you whining, closing your eyes when he stroked your back.

"Thank you," He kissed you on the cheek, forehead, nose and every time his lips could reach, "Thank you so much. You're so good to me,"

Your weak giggles were enough, only to choke out a gasp when his hips stuttered against yours. The images of your own desperation flooded your mind, shying away by hiding your face into his collarbone.

None of you moved for what was assumed was five minutes or so, feeling exhausted yet content to have each other for a little while longer.

"Thank you," He repeated, softer this time.

"You're welcome," Seeing him smile, as genuine as when he came home an hour ago, was the one thing you looked forward to.

Nothing could ruin this moment.

The sudden knocks coming from the bedroom door, considering that you left the bathroom door slightly ajar, caused both of you to jump.

"Master Bruce, Mistress (Y/N), I just had the dinner table set up. Come to the dining room whenever you're both ready," Alfred called from the other side before hearing his footsteps become softer by the second. You and Bruce shared a look before laughing softly.

"Do you think he heard all that?" He asked you.

"I hope not," He didn't, you knew that. At least, there was a high chance that he didn't. Yesterday, as soon as you told Alfred that you had 'plans' for Bruce, he knew not to come up to the second floor until he was absolutely sure you had done what was necessary, "You still up for dinner?"

"Mhm, I didn't have much for lunch today," You blinked.

"Don't tell me you only had the coffee and croissant that you ordered from the café?" You knew what his answer was going to be, and the guilty look he had didn't help much either.

"I plead the fifth?" You didn't have it in you to scold him for his negligence. That didn't mean you weren't disappointed, “Okay, okay, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see you as soon as I finished my work. I thought I could make up for the lost time when I was so reserved about the whole issue with that other company,”

“Oh, sweetheart,” You shook your head with a pout, “Then at the very least, you can make it up to me by having dinner downstairs,”

“Deal,” He agreed without hesitation. You didn’t leave the room immediately though — Alfred did say to come down whenever you were both ready. For now, both of you agreed to stay in each other’s arms a little while longer.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

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prettypinktulips · 11 months

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Do you write for Thomas Hewitt? If yes can I have please Thomas Hewitt with male reader who works at a chainsaw store? Poor Tommy broke his chainsaw (mf is strong as fuck so he probably would) and Hoyt forced him to go alone to buy one, poor boy was so anxious and awkward but he saw a handsome man (male reader) and it's some love at first sight type shit.

The rest is up to you 👬

YES I LOVE TOM TOM ! THANK U SO MUCH FOR REQUEWSTSIGN ( the first fanfic ive written so no hate plz) Thomas swallowed hard as he looked up at the big scintillating sign in front of him. "CHAINSAW HOTSPOT", One of the "O's" were out, the flickering was hurting his eyes a little bit. He looked back forward and brought himself inside as he looked around, it was nothing like he expected. The place was really extensive despite of the small exterior. I wish he wouldn't have made me go by myself, he knows how bad I am with people. Thomas felt himself get rather excited when he started to notice all of the different selections of chainsaws there were. "You looking for something, handsome?" Y/N said with a soft smile and brought his fist to his cheek. Thomas gasped at the voice being spoken to him, he felt his heart skip a bit as he brought his attention towards Y/N. "Those chainsaws might be a little small for you.. you look like a big man." His e/c eyes shifted over to a different aisle as he raised his arm and pointed towards it. Thomas looked around for anyone behind him and then back at Y/N, he brought his hand up as he pointed towards himself. "Well, yes of course you! Who else would I be talking to?" Thomas got embarrassed as well as a bit flattered. Nobody has ever called him handsome, well except his mother.. which well was his mother why wouldn't she.

A quiet "Hm." fell past his lips, seems like it was the only thing that could come out. Thomas nodded and walked into the aisle where Y/N was pointing at, and he was right the chainsaws here were HUGE. Just the way he liked them. "What a strange fellow." Y/N mumbled off to himself and tilted his head back a little to keep his eyes on the brute, he crossed his arms. "Would you like me to help you find one?" Y/N stood up and headed over towards the black-haired male.

"I.." Thomas looked at the (shorter/taller) male in front of him and got flustered. Well now that Y/N was already in front of him there's no telling him to leave now. "Let's see what we got here.." Y/N slowly dropped down onto his knees and picked up one of the boxes, he rested it on his knees as he started to open it. "Here, try this one out for show," Thomas was a little nervous and held the chainsaw close, he stood back a bit and grabbed the wire as he yanked on it. The chainsaw had a little malfunction but that's why Thomas immediately fell in love with it, a smile crept across his lips. Nobody else could see it since he had his mask on.

But Y/N could tell by the way his eyes reacted. "So this one is taking to your liking?" Thomas jolted as if he forgotten the h/c haired man below him. Y/N started to stand up and looked (down/up) at the male. "You know, you're quite quiet. I don't mind it though, makes my job easier." Thomas felt relieved as he nodded to Y/N's previous question. "Alright, let's get you set up then." He followed behind Y/N to the counter and watched as the h/c haired male got behind the register. His eyes devoured the males looks, Thomas didn't know he was doing it.. it wasn't intentional. "See something you like?" Y/N said abruptly and it snapped Thomas back to reality.

"I..I wasn't.. trying to." Thomas looked down at himself felt ashamed, he tried to think of things so he could change the subject. This was so fucking embarrassing to the point it made him spill out a whole sentence. Y/N felt a little bad and gently laid a hand on Thomas' cheek, it immediately calmed him down. He didn't know why but it did. "At least take me out on a date first or precisely tell me your name!" Y/N teased. Thomas tensed up a bit as his face devolved into a bright red. He's never went a date because of his deformities. That's right, Y/N didn't know about them because he's been wearing the mask. He didn't know about the hideous figure underneath the mask. That's probably the only reason he was talking to him this way, because his face was hidden.

"Hm." Thomas brought his hand up to his mask and brought it down a bit, he looked to the side and then (up/down) at the male in front of him, expecting to get yelled at or even tyrannized like in the past. But all he saw was a smiling Y/N. "Your face is still a treasure to me, I wish you would've shown me sooner!" Y/N caressed some of the scars. It was final, Thomas has officially swooned over for Y/N. How could a man be this perfect? He doesn't care if they just met, he's really considering this dating thing after all. "C..Chainsaw.." He mumbled. Y/N had completely forgotten as he hurried to move his hand away.

"Sorry, let me get that for you." Y/N looked to the side at the counter and grabbed the chainsaw, he turned the box over and scanned the barcode. He smiled softly. "You know what, don't even worry about it. I'll pay for it." Thomas had a questioned look on his face. "Why..?" Y/N just giggled and took out his card, he swiped it on the swipey thing (idk what its called) and paid for it. "Our date should be enough to pay me back. Reminds me, you never told me your name, stranger!" Thomas felt himself going back to that awkward phase again. "It's.. Thomas." Y/N nodded and smiled. "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you." He handed the chainsaw to him. Thomas just stared at the chainsaw, he was beaming with happiness.

(short story)

THE DATE. Thomas was well over nervous. Even nervous seemed like a too simple term to describe what he was feeling. All they were doing was going to the movies which he had to beg Y/N to do since he was already too nervous showing his face at a restaurant. He sat outside playing with the waistband of his jeans. All Y/N said was to wear something casual, but Thomas couldn't do that. Y/N didn't deserve casual. He decided he was going to wear the top of a suit and then jeans. The suit pants made him too uncomfortable, too busy in his own thoughts he hadn't noticed Y/N in front of him.

"Well, don't you look handsome?" Y/N smiled and laid a hand on the tie, he looked (up/down) at the black haired male. "You know you didn't have to go all out for me.. But I appreciate it." Y/N looked down at his watch for the time. Thomas felt his heart pounding out of his chest, it didn't matter if Y/N was wearing just a casual outfit he looked astounding. Even if he was just wearing a trash bag he could still make it look stylish. That's what Thomas thought anyways. They headed inside the theater. "It's really pretty in here.." Y/N looked to the side at the male and then noticed the mask, he frowned slightly. "It must've been really dark outside! I didn't know you were wearing your mask, Thomas.

"I.. just didn't.. want to embarrass you." Thomas hurried to look away, Y/N just giggled. "Embarrass me? What in God's name are you talking about?" Y/N brought them over to a dark corner and laid a hand on the mask, he pulled it off. "See, look at this pretty face of yours." Y/N leaned in a little as he laid his hand on the brute's cheek. "I would never be embarrassed of you, okay? You can't control your deformities, it's not your fault." Thomas was just about to speak when Y/N gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He was dumbfounded. He hesitated a little but eventually kissed the h/c haired guy back. This was the best night ever for him.

#thomas hewitt x male reader #fanfic #x male reader #fluff #a little fruity #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #i love thomas hewitt

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cerise-on-top · 3 months

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Got any Farah, Valeria, & Laswell hcs? Anything, really- I'm dying for my girls 🤲🤲🤲

Hello! Yeah, I was able to come up with a few! I already wrote a few for Valeria here! Somehow, I forgot to put them in my masterlist, though, which I have since fixed! Thank you for making me aware of this, though :-) These are general Headcanons, though, since I had an easier time coming up with those and because you didn't specify, I hope that's okay!

Valeria, Farah and Laswell HCs

Valeria: She’s always had quite the temper, even when she was young. While she may not have been spoiled to hell and back as a child, she usually got what she wanted, as long as it wasn’t something extraordinarily big, her parents always took care of her like that. Valeria loved her mother, they got along very well with each other, and she also took after her, having inherited her personality for the most part. Her father was a bit calmer than the two of them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t get along either. Whereas her mother would encourage her to do most things, her father would try to talk sense into her if it was a bad idea. She often sulked because of it, which is why she didn’t like her father as much as her mother, but as she got older she realized he meant well. Sometimes she still thinks about his advice, but the both of them died a long time ago, so most things they’ve told her are a distant memory by now. Valeria may be successful with what she’s doing and doesn’t like being told what to do, but sometimes she does wish she could still eat some sweets with her parents like she used to.

Joining the military actually wasn’t her first choice of career. She tried many places, but no one would take her, so she opted for the military, which welcomed her with open arms. She got paid. Not well, but she received the money, which was important since her parents couldn’t leave her with too much. They didn’t have very much either, so there wasn’t much to be inherited. Because she’s a woman, a few creeps tried to harass her, but she had none of it and beat all three of them up herself and on her own. Ever since that incident she wasn’t a big fan of the military either, but no other place would take her. However, it showed just how capable she was and earned her a lot of respect. A few other men would try to make advances towards her, but she shot them down every time. However, whenever another female soldier would jokingly flirt with her, that’s when she’d give it her all, making it her goal to fluster her beyond all hell. She’s spent a few evenings and nights with a few female soldiers, but was always willing to rip a male soldier’s dick off if he was being too friendly with her. During her time as a soldier she also realized that she preferred women.

She didn’t always hate Alejandro, actually. Back in the day, they got along very well. He was a man, yes, but he had enough respect for her. It wasn’t a given, even if it should have been, but she appreciated it. Whenever they sparred he gave it his all as well and never looked down on her. In his eyes, the two of them were equals and it showed. Valeria could appreciate that. She liked him, she spent a night with him but realized she hated that sort of stuff with men. He was the final realization for her that Valeria does not like men. It didn’t make her hate him at first, though. Only when he insisted on the two of them being a thing did she develop some form of disdain for him. Once she told him that she could never feel the same way, he stopped. However, he also started treating her a bit differently since he was in love with her. As he rose in ranks, he was a bit harsher on her than the other soldiers, usually dissatisfied with anything she did. He didn’t even notice that, but Valeria did. Therefore he became just another scum to her.

Farah: Before her town got attacked, she actually had a pretty happy childhood. She was sweet and kind as a kid, she got along well with her parents and her brother and she had a few close friends. Farah loved going outside to play, sometimes even inviting her parents to make potions with her in a bucket filled with water, sand and rocks. Her parents were always afraid of the Russians invading and tried to keep their children safe regardless of what happened, but in the end they were unable to. It hit Farah pretty hard, she loved her parents. Even now she misses them dearly since they always took such good care of her and her brother. At least she still had her brother. Farah knew she was the younger one out of the two of them, so she likely should have been the one to be protected, but once her town got attacked she became determined to make sure her brother would stay with her. Drastic times called for drastic measures, so she actually has killed people just so her brother could stay alive. It was around that time that other people realized how she was a very caring person still and could be trusted. Slowly, through that realization, she was able to gather a small force that could help her.

Farah is a pretty good leader. The people she works with adore her because, under that rough exterior, she’s still a good person. All her brothers and sisters know she can be trusted with just about anything. She rarely ever says no upon hearing a request of one of her people, knowing fully well what it’s like to need something. As she’s been through a lot herself, she always has an open ear for her brothers and sisters. While there’s not always time to listen to everyone’s concerns, if she does have time she’ll listen to you intently. Farah knows a lot more about her people than she lets on, that ranges from how the latest battle has gone to how her sister’s family is doing. She’s never one to turn down someone in need, always offering food and shelter. I know she may seem stern, because she has to be in order to be a good leader, but deep down she’s still the same kind girl that she’s always been. Her people would give up just about anything for her, and they do. One day, Farah dreams, Urzikstan will be free, it will be safe and it will prosper, its people won’t have anything to fear anymore. Trade will continue, the people will be happy and she can finally lay down her weary head and rest for a bit. But until then, she swore she’ll fight and fight until everything is finally over.

She’s never actually been in love. When she had the chance to develop a crush she was too young. Now that she’s older she doesn’t have time for anything lovey dovey in the slightest. Alex was the first person she ever developed a crush on. He may have seemed like an enemy at first, but it quickly enough became evident that that couldn’t be further from the truth. He was a good man, someone who could be trusted no matter what. He was loyal to a fault as well, which Farah could appreciate. However, she never told him, swallowing her feelings down instead no matter how intense they became. Yet, she sort of did always look forward to his small gestures of affection. Alex is a physically affectionate guy, so he’d sometimes pat her shoulder, put a hand on her shoulder or gently bump her arm to show he liked her. Farah is severely touch starved, so it made for a good combination. One time, he asked if she would like a hug, to which she said yes. To this day, Farah thinks about that hug since it was the first one she had received in seven or eight years. It may not have seemed like she was swayed at the time, but she was very content afterwards.

Laswell: Laswell’s parents didn’t really care too much for her. Don’t get me wrong, they provided for her physical needs, but they barely looked after her in any other regard, thinking she was happy because she had everything she could ever need. Laswell may have been strong because of it, even then, but she did wish her parents had cared more about other things as well, such as how she was doing emotionally. There were quite a few things that hurt her during her childhood, but she barely had anyone who would support her during her rough times. Her parents only ever wanted to see her happy and content, but barely made any effort to actually keep her as such. Laswell knew fairly early on that she was a lesbian and did come out to her parents, but that’s all that happened. It was never discussed again afterwards, even if her father would sometimes say that she would “find the right guy eventually” while talking to other people. Laswell has called him out on it numerous times, but he always made it about him and how he was the victim for saying something that made his daughter uncomfortable. Laswell didn’t stay in contact with her parents for very long once she moved out.

Even back when she was a child, Laswell knew she wanted to do something more exciting than be a hairdresser, waitress or cook. She wanted to do something with plenty of action, but at the same time she wanted to study and go to university. And thus she combined her wishes and started going to university at first. Afterwards, sometime in her twenties, she started to work for the CIA. She wasn’t treated with very much respect there at first, being a woman working there and all. But she didn’t let that disrespect get her down. In fact, on the outside, she stayed professional, but on the inside she took mental notes on who treated her badly and who didn’t. It soon enough became evident that Laswell knew what she was doing, even if her master’s degree should have been proof enough that there was some intelligence in that noggin of hers. However, soon enough she was transferred. In fact, she was transferred many times before she became a station chief, but it only showed just how competent she was in her field. Laswell has since saved thousands of lives and is proud of it. To her, such a thing is her calling and she wants to continue doing so for as long as she can, all the dangers be damned.

Laswell adores her wife. In fact, “Laswell” isn’t her original last name, she took that of her wife. At first they played with the idea of combining their names, but Laswell wanted fairly little to do with her parents at that point. Plus she wanted to show her father that she never “found the right guy”. So her being named Laswell is purely out of spite. While she may not be at home all the time, or very often, for that matter, she makes sure to bring her wife a gift every time she comes home. It can be something small, such as a souvenir she found while she was abroad, or it could be something along the lines of a golden ring that unfolds into an astronomical sphere. She needs to pamper her wife like that and make sure she knows Laswell loves her to the moon and back. Money isn’t an issue for her, she gets paid very well. Even if the biggest reward for her doing what she does is seeing her wife smile. Every time she sees her give her a big smile she’s reminded of why she does what she does, and that’s the most wonderful thing for her. Even so, not many people know about Laswell’s wife, only a select few do. It’s a safety measure since she knows people will target her. Although she’s a diplomatic kind of person, if anyone ever were to hurt her wife, then that person can be certain they’ll never walk freely among the sunlight again.

#cod #valeria garza #farah karim #kate laswell #if it was up to me I'd make Valeria and Laswell lesbians. and so I did because this is my blog #and because I wanna kiss them and cook them a nice and healthy meal that reminds them of me! I can't cook to save my life but I'll learn ho #Farah is into Alex so she isn't a lesbian in my book!#“a gay person's straight ship is the most powerful thing in the universe”#you can't tell me Alex wouldn't treat Farah right though! she deserves a guy like him who's hopelessly in love with her #sometimes I think about a poly relationship with the two of them because I love both of these characters dearly #just think about it: being hugged by two strong people at once! what's not to love about this concept?#cooking them a meal and receiving a kiss from the both of them oh god please someone wife me up already #Alex would get all three of you something cute and matching! like plushies!#he'd get a nice dog plushie. Farah gets a cat plushie. you get a plushie of an animal that reminds you of him that's still cute!#like a small bunny or a small birdie!#and just so you know both of them are good at hugging! they're both really strong and good at making you feel protected!#man I love Farah and Alex! they're such good characters! Alex was the first character I truly liked when watching MW1 #I was so sad to see he wasn't in mw2 but!!! he's in MW3!!! My boy is back in business!#can I also just mention that you can play as Farah in MW3? isn't that also just so cool? again I squealed!#I squealed every time at the cafe I stayed at when I saw you could play as one of the girls! good thinking activision!

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