#she can only accept me if i'm the daughter she want me to be if i bend in the ways that are comfortable

[cameronspecial]

we all kmow drew loves to read and staying in, let’s make Dad!Drew staying in for the weekend and read to his 2 yo daughter and everything (hanging out, taking cute pics, doing her hair, play house) while reader going out with her friends and she felt a little guilty but he assured her that he loves spending time with their baby, so she should stop worrying.

Me And My Lady

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Suggestion of Sex At The End

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

“You be Ken, Daddy, and I be Chelsea,” Elizabeth orders, handing her father the doll. Most kids are obsessed with the titular character of Barbibe; however, Drew’s daughter loves her Chelsea doll with a passion. He takes it without hesitation, “'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten. Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?” The singing goes over his daughter’s head and she begins the dialogue of the game. He isn’t too sure what exactly is going on; only catching every other word. He does hear cheating and divorce though, so he makes a mental note to ask Y/N if she has been watching Real Housewives with their daughter again. 

Around half an hour later, the young girl complains about being hungry, so the two of them get to cook dinner. He watches as the small hand grips the spatula and waves it back and forward, spreading tomato sauce over the lasagna slices. She accidentally yanks the utensil upward, which causes a splash of red to land on her nose. Drew laughs and Elizabeth goes crossed eyes to try to see what he is laughing at. This makes him laugh even harder and she joins in on the cheery mood. He takes the phone out, letting her put some sauce on his nose and angling the camera at both of them. They make a funny face and he takes multiple pictures. After their small photo shoot, the two of them finish making the lasagna and eat up their reward for their effort. He checks the time to see that it is the little one’s bedtime soon. “It’s bath time,” he announces. Excitement crosses her face because she loves being in the water. He helps her out of the chair and chuckles when she rushes to the bathroom. “Come on, Daddy,” she beckons from the other room. He jogs after her to find her sorting through her toys already, trying to figure out which one she wants to play with. The one thing she hates about bathtime is the three toys limit. 

He steps over the toys and plugs the drain so the tub will fill when he turns the tap on. As the water begins to occupy the hollow porcelain, Drew turns to his daughter and opens the cabinet beside the bath. “Do you want bubbles and what bath bomb do you want?” he questions. She looks up from her toys and examines the choices, “Can I use one of Mommy’s?” The cabinet is filled with bubbles for both Y/N and Elizabeth, but the bath bombs are divided between the two of them. Elizabeth’s are colourful and shaped in different forms, such as cats, unicorns, or dogs, while Y/N’s are more focused on the scents so they are less colourful and just round. Knowing his wife wouldn’t mind sharing, he nods. “Bubbles, please, and that one,” she answers, pointing to the light pink bath bomb that smells of roses. Drew grabs both of the chosen items, “Those are fine choices, My Lady.” Elizabeth giggles at the funny accent he uses and accepts the round object he hands her, dropping it into the tub when he instructs her to. 

Once the bubbles are in and the water is at an appropriate height, he helps her undress and sets her into the tub. He hands her the duck, the mermaid, and the boat she chose to play with, accepting the mermaid she gave him. “And we can swim all night together,” she recounts. The duck slaps against the water under the grip of the daughter. The force produces a large splash that hits her father in the face. His face scrunches as the water makes contact and drips to his neck. “Hahaha,” she yells. Drew fakes an angry look, “Grrr. You think that’s funny, Little Lady?” He dips his hand in the water and flicks some at his daughter. Her giggles intensify and she tries to get away from the attack. The warmth soon leaves her, creating a shiver in her. Upon seeing this, the father grabs the ducky hood towel from the hook and takes her out of the tub. He wraps it around her and runs his hands up and down her arms to create some heat. The floor is soaked because of their playing, so he takes a second to dry it with the floor towel. 

With the floor clean, he carries her to her room and they get her changed into her pyjamas. He runs the towel over her hair to get out as much moisture as he can. He takes the brush she hands him and runs it through her hair to get rid of the knots created in the bath. “Do we want one braid or two?” he confirms. She hmms for a little, “Two Fwench braids, please.” He divides her hair into two and then separates one of the sections into three. He begins weaving the strands together like his wife taught him and sings with his daughter whilst she waits for him to finish. 

“There you go, My Lady. Why don’t you go choose a bedtime story?” he encourages, watching her run to her bookcase. She spends about a minute looking at her options before choosing a book he knows she is going to pick because it has been her choice for a few nights now. She patters back to him and he helps her onto her big girl bed. Her head rests against his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t see her thumb in her mouth even though Y/N would kill him for not stopping it. He thumbs through the book to find where they stopped last night and clears his throat to start reading. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” The English major side of him loves that his daughter likes to read Shakespeare. He is sure she doesn’t understand anything he reads, yet he knows she enjoys it because she is always so attentive and she’ll ask what certain words will mean. Drew looks past the inappropriate subject matter of Hamlet for the two-year-old because it feels like a bonding experience for him. It is one of the reasons why he isn’t angry at Y/N for watching Real Housewives with Elizabeth. 

Ten minutes later, he fills her head relax as it digs into his muscles. He closes the book and kisses her forehead. His hand raises the blanket to her chin, turning on the night light. “I love you, My Lady,” he whispers. 

———

Drew is reading through Othello because he thinks it is what he and Elizabeth should read after Hamlet. She’ll like the witches’ scene. He hears the front door open and close. He shuts the book, placing it on the side table as his wife walks through the bedroom door. “Hey, did she go down to sleep okay?” she mumbles. Her back is facing him whilst she takes off her jewellery and places them on her vanity. His head bobs and he gets behind her. He hands her a makeup wipe, resting his chin on her shoulder. He observes her nighttime routine through the mirror. His lips press against her skin, “Yep, everything went by smoothly. We are almost done with Act Three for Hamlet. I’m thinking about reading Othello with her next. How was the club?” She hesitates about answering. Y/N honestly had an amazing time tonight. It felt so great not having to worry about another human being for an evening. She loves Elizabeth, except being a mom can create a lot of pressure. Even though the night was a success, guilt overcomes her when she meets her husband’s eyes in the mirror. Drew hasn’t gone out at night with friends since he got back from work and she has been out three times. “It was fine,” she plays off, wiping her makeup off with the wipes he provided for her.

His brow arches at her tone, “Really, only fine? I saw Layton’s story. You looked like you were having a blast.” Her eyes fall to the vanity. “It must have been a trick of the light,” she shrugs. She goes for another wipe, except veiny hands stop her. He takes her hand in his and spins her so they face each other. Warm hands cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, My Queen? Why so glum?” he worries, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. 

Her breath tickles his skin as she exhales, “Do you hate that I make you stay at home with Elizabeth when I go out?” His head shakes like an earthquake and he brings her in for a hug. He can feel the guilt oozing out of her. “No, of course not. I love Elizabeth. Why would I hate it?”

“I’m not saying that you hate her. I just wonder if you resent me for going out with the girls, which means you have sole parent duties for a night. You haven’t had a night out since she was born. I mean you go out, but never by yourself so that I have sole parent duties.” 

“You have sole duties when I work.”

“That’s different though. Just because you love your job doesn’t mean it is a personal outing for pleasure.”

“True.” 

She looks back at him with a pout, his last words intensifying her emotions. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I may not go out anymore, but I never used to go out that much before anyways, right?” he reminds her. She thinks about it, realizing that it is true. Whenever he went out, it was always with her by his side. She meets his gaze, “You are saying that to make me feel better.” His head moves from side to side. “No. I love having nights with me and My Lady. I mean they are perfect when it is me, My Lady, and My Queen, but if I can give you a much-needed break, then I am more than happy to help you with that. If anything, Elizabeth is my excuse to stay in.” A grin starts to grow on his face when he sees the tips of her lips flip upwards. “Well, I’m glad I made you the perfect excuse,” she jokes. His laugh joins her lightened mood, “You made me the best excuse. Maybe we should start working on another one. You know, to solidify our excuse.” His eyebrows waggle and she pulls him into a kiss with a smirk. Their giggles mix in the air as he locks their bedroom door and she flops onto their bed. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew #dad!drew starkey #drew starkey #drew #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader

[nunalastor]

Hi! Continuation of "Findling Charlie" (Snow White + Tangled AU)

Lucifer was on a mission. No thoughts in his head, just anger and confusion guiding his movements.

In his full demonic form, his horns, tail and wings visible, infernal fire surrounding him, he crossed each floor of his palace until he reached the basement, and once there, with tunnel vision, he only focused on a black door.

An understanding was reached a long time ago. Roo could do whatever she wanted in and out of hell, except spy on the royal family. Each of the eyes that she spread throughout hell had to be closed in the presence of him or Lilith. She couldn't interact with them unless they allowed it.

In order for them to allow an interaction, there had to be a means of communication, and that was why Lucifer created that room.

He entered quickly, closing the door and leaving himself completely in darkness. Knowing exactly where to aim, he launched a fireball. A red eye appearing in the darkness in front of him. Little by little, hundreds of red eyes appeared around the room, seeming to want to get their bearings until all eyes focused on Lucifer.

He didn't care, he had his gaze fixed on what was now his reflection, because on the wall in front of the door, under the first eye that appeared, there was a mirror.

Lucifer's reflection is distorted, fades, and in its place appears a woman.

"Well, this is new. Long time no see Lulu"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID BITCH, COME HERE SO WE CAN FIX IT ONCE"

He can see how she just raises an eyebrow, she's having fun.

"I think you'll have to be more specific, honey. I've done a lot of things since we last talked. Now tell me, what are you blaming me for this time?"

"DON'T PRETEND YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, YOU TOOK MY DAUGHTER AWAY. I'M NOT INTERESTED IN THE REASON, I JUST WANT TO BREAK YOUR DAMN NECK."

Roo is no longer smiling, but she doesn't seem scared either. She is confused. Lucifer's anger subsides a little while his own confusion increases, fear starting to freeze his heart.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you two gave her to me."

"...what?..."

"Oh! Wait..." the smile, amusement returns to her face, a laugh fighting to escape "...you didn't know?"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Oh! This is beautiful!...wait a moment sweetness, I think it's time for you to see through MY eyes."

And Lucifer can't look away. He sees how the mirror seems to split, all the eyes in the room showing their own angle, until only one image is seen divided in two. The eye on the door and the eye on the mirror, facing each other.

He can see Roo on the left side of the mirror, and on the right side he can see his reflection. A reflection that changes, until it shows Lilith, with a black basket in her hands. And his daughter's little hands trying to reach her mother from inside the basket.

"WHAT IS THIS?!"

"Shhh, calm down darling," the voice echoes in his mind "you'll love what's to come."

He watches, carefully, as Roo and Lilith talk, as Lilith indicates that they had a daughter, but it was a mistake, they regretted it when it was too late.

"Typical of you, right? Making decisions, doing something, and regretting it later, especially when you have to deal with the consequences."

Lucifer sees Roo laugh, and demand something in return. She is not going to do something for Lilith, especially if she has to receive something from one of them.

"I think the last time it didn't go so well."

They reach an agreement, Roo takes Charlie, does whatever she wants with her, and in exchange Roo will be able to have more presence in hell, go wherever Lilith goes. Roo makes a necklace appear, a black diamond, a hidden mirror. Lilith adds that, if Lucifer is with her in the same room, Roo's gaze cancels out, and Roo accepts it, not that she wanted to see them together anyway.

Lucifer sees how the exchange is made, he sees Lilith approach the mirror. He sees how Lilith brings the basket, with her daughter, to the mirror. He watches as the basket is absorbed, moving away from Lilith and appearing in Roo's hands. He sees Lilith putting on the black diamond necklace.

"And no one is going to question where the princess went? I would hate for people to blame me again for things I did because I didn't know what would come next."

"No one knows she exists. I told you, we regret it. We never announced that we were expecting her and we never introduced her"

That's not what happened. It was assumed that they hadn't announced it because they didn't want anyone to try to take advantage of Lilith in her state. And they WERE going to introduce Charlie, but they wanted to wait until she was a month old. It was Lilith's idea...it was Lilith's plan.

The images in the mirror fade, and for a moment he can see his reflection. He didn't realize when he fell to his knees, when tears began to fall from his eyes. After a blink, Roo appears in the mirror again, but he is no longer looking at her.

"...how could she do this to me?..."

"Well dear, I'm sure Adam said the same thing."

Lucifer launches a fireball again, severing the connection, but Roo's laughter echoes in his mind as the eyes around him begin to disappear until he is left alone, in the darkness, in silence.

---

Roo couldn't stop laughing, she hadn't had so much fun in years.

Her pet certainly always seems to know how to please her. She saw the paper in Lucifer's hands, she knows where he got it from. And she knows that her beloved pet had ulterior motives, but she will let it go this time. The gift he gave her with his actions deserves a reward.

Seeing Lucifer, on his knees, crying like the whiny brat he always was, was the best thing that had happened to her in centuries.

Through the black and red chain that she makes appear in her hands, she sends her beloved deer a pulse of energy, a caress, so that he knows that she is pleased.

And through a diamond-shaped mirror, she sends a message to a very high place.

"HE KNOWS, BITCH"

She wonders how much hotter hell will burn and if the flames will reach heaven. She just loves to see the world burn.

👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #tangled #tangled au #radioapple #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #snow white #lilith

[ratinthevoid]

why did i believe i can ever come out to her

#i need to move out i need to move out i need to move out #i hate this #i can't do this anymore #i hate them but i feel like i'm not a loved to bc they care about me #fuck christiany and your stupid god #i was trying so hard and i can excuse a lot but what's even the point if they never understand #christianity is so evil so fucking evil it rots your brain #she tak about leftist propaganda and cults like she didn't let one control her for years #she want me to tell her stuff promises she can support me but it's simply a lie #she can only accept me if i'm the daughter she want me to be if i bend in the ways that are comfortable #just a little more but every day is so fucking hard #i know i'm gonna suffer and that i may be alone my whole life #but i prefer to be alone and suffer in a different place than be stuck here #and maybe i don't have to be alone maybe other people can have friends that actually care about them #fuck i believed for so long she won't have problem with me being aro like it's not even a sin right??? #i keep doing that i'm trying to tell them everything so they tell me what they really think and i'm not the bad person #but it doesn't matter if i'm the evil here i can accept it i was trying for so long #i know i'm difficult but maybe it can be easier for everyone if you just give up on me

[bootyful-seventeen]

i am too mentally exhausted to even deal with this shit anymore with my mom and grandma and low key wish i'd go comatose for a few years to be left alone tbh

#had a clean up service come by to see the damage and give a quote on the estimate and my grandma wasnt having it #she got upset and started crying to them about she has only 1 daughter and is trying to help her and they're trying to tell her that keepin #all that junk isn't gonna be helping anyone especially my mom but she wasn't getting it and i said i'm not helping clean the junk that's #all around the house cuz i'm tired of it all and having to manage my emotions since i am for sure emtotionally stunted from my childhood #and have to deal with a schitzophrenic mom and an absent sister who's balls deep in denial while i'm struggling to find a job here #and my grandma always stressing me ot saying she's gonna kick me out isn't fucking helping here at all like she thinks it does #so when they left she spent all day sobbing on the phone how i'm a terrible granddaughter who wants to throw out good stuff #when i'm not gonna keep helping sell shit for my mom cuz my sister can do it as her family contribution since she did nothing since dad die #and the thing is i gave them all options on clearing shit out cuz i know this family by now and shit doesn't get tossed but it migrates #cuz i said months ago i can ask some friends if they could come down and help sort and declutter #grandma said no to that and said she'll kick me out if i do it and she didn't want to pay for my mom's shit to get moved into a storage uni #she leaves the clean up to my mom and i think the backyard got worse but she didn't call anyone to throw out the junk like she threatened t #so i call a fucking hoarders clean up service cuz that's what my family is on my mom's side at this point and the city will be called too #and she has this reaction cries all day and calls everyone to say i'm horrible and yells at me saying i'm the one killing her with stress #when she's already been doing that for months to herself when i'm just tired and possibly mildly depressed or something idk #i barely leave my room and don't go outside except to walk my dog but idk cuz my family's attittude was we don't go to doctors cuz #cuz they're for crazy people but of course it's gotta switch up for my mom and no one else and i'm just sick of it all #grandma doesn't accept free help and she won't accept help that i pay for myself with my money set aside for school so i'm done #unlike her when i say i'll do something i stick to it so i'm not doing shit anymore unless i can call a friend to help with this mess #it's gonna sound like such a horrible thing but i can't wait for my family to die so i can live in a clean home again and get help #like deep serious help cleaning and big time grief councelling cuz i barely had time to process my dad's death and being the one to find hi #and that was just this february like god i am going to need so much fucking therapy in my future it's almost rediculous #and probably say screw my mom's side and visit my dad's side a lot more since they seem to be the normal ones in this shit family tree #at least they're not stupid and leave junk everywhere where one neighbour getting sick of not being able to sit outside and enjoy their yar #without mountains of junk staring them right in the face and landing a notice from the city to clean up especially since #we have chainlink fences and at least 7 neighbours can see the backyard and everyone can see the front porch when passing by #i'm just tired of living in these suffocating households and even wanna file a report myself to kick them into gear #its horrible living like this and no one should live surrounded by junk and things they never use or even garbage

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Alastor x fem! reader

Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale

Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism

_____

Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"

"Yeah, thoughts?"

"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.

But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.

Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.

"How was your day, mon amour?"

"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."

Silence.

And not even radio silence.

"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.

But announcing their relationship to him?

He could see it ending in flames.

"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."

"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.

"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.

Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.

"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."

Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"

"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."

Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.

A perfect match.

(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.

How sweet.

"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.

"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.

"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.

"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?

Honestly, Lucifer feared that.

Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.

He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.

He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.

"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"

"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.

And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.

And placed it away from hers.

"Uh, dad-"

"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."

"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."

"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"

"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."

That's when he saw it.

That look.

Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.

It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.

"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."

"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.

The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.

"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.

"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.

Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.

"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.

"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.

There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.

"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."

That look, it made her softly gasp.

"Alast-"

"Ew."

Right.

Lucifer.

He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.

"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.

He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.

"Maybe."

Sick bastard.

_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _

"Fuck! Alastor!"

(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.

"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.

"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.

"Al?"

"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.

"But you-"

Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.

"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.

"I'm going to kill you."

"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.

Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.

"And stay in that form. It suits you."

#alastor imagine #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader

[aperrywilliams]

Little Big Secret (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator)

——————

Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: You’re 36 weeks pregnant with Spencer’s baby. What happens when you are about to give birth and need to contact Spencer while he is in a case out of town?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Pregnancy and labor symptoms are described. Some strong words. If I missed something, let me know. It's a fluffy one. Dad!Spencer coming to light. The chaotic trio I love having their moment (Reid-Morgan-Prentiss).

A/N: I wrote this fic based on this request. I loved doing it! Let me know what you think.

——————

Being 36 weeks pregnant and stuck in your apartment trying to convince your non-born baby girl to stop kicking your guts is not funny. It's worse when the same scenario occurs at 3 am, and you are alone, unable to sleep in the last 24 hours, exhausted and sentimental because your boyfriend Spencer isn't home.

You won't tell him that, though. You convinced him to go with the team to Trenton for a case, telling him you would be okay and that baby girl Reid won't be here for at least two weeks. That's what your doctor said to you in the last appointment.

Reluctantly Spencer agreed, making you swear you would call him or your sister if anything happened.

"Relax, baby. Everything will be okay. We'll be here when you return from your case," you assured him. "You have to go while you can. Once this girl is born, you'll be stuck here and will get tired of us," you giggled. Spencer's eyes widened.

"What? No! Get tired of you? Never!"

"About that. Do they know why you are taking leave in the next weeks?"

"Not really. Hotch knows, but the rest assume I'll go to see my mom," your boyfriend shrugged.

You still find it unbelievable that the best-known profilers in the country haven't noticed one of their own has a girlfriend for three years and a baby on the way.

At first, you had your apprehensions about why Spencer didn't want his team to know your existence. You thought maybe Spencer felt embarrassed because of you or didn't consider your relationship worth enough for them to know. But your boyfriend assured you it was anything but that. He told you what happened to Haley, Hotch's wife, and the multiple times a team's family member has been exposed to danger because of their job. He wanted you safe. He wanted to protect you.

The only one who knew about you was Hotch, Spencer's boss. But he, better than anyone, could understand Spencer's reasons, so he hadn't said anything.

You understood it and accepted it, even if you both knew that at some point, your secret would not be a secret anymore. For now, it was safer like this.

Exhaustion was all you got now, and even you have been trying to bribe your unborn daughter with chocolates if she behaved and let you sleep. It seemed you succeeded as she stopped making a party in your womb.

You fall asleep thinking about how your life has changed in the past years and how happy you were despite how uncomfortable pregnancy was at this point.

The next morning you woke up feeling a little better. Sleep helped, but your body was still tense, so you thought a warm bath after breakfast was a good idea to relax your sore muscles.

You were finishing your pancakes when Spencer called you.

"Hey, baby!" You greeted.

"Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?"

You didn't have the heart to tell him how uncomfortable you were last night.

"Good. Everything is good here. How is the case?" You tried to direct the topic to him. Spencer sighed.

"I think we are close to catching the unsub, but it had been hard," he confessed.

"I know you'll get him soon," you assured him. Spencer chuckled. He loved how you were always rooting for him. You were his biggest fan.

"I hope so. And you? Our baby girl has been good? When I come back-" he didn't even finish the sentence when someone called his name in the distance. 'Reid! We need you now!'

A heavy sigh left Spencer's lips.

"I'm sorry, love. I got to go," he mumbled into the receiver, guilt dripping from his voice.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't apologize and go to catch the bad guy," you encouraged him.

"I will. I love you so so much. And I love our little one. I promise to make it up to you both, okay?"

"I love you more. We'll be waiting for you."

Despite your efforts to relax during your bath, it seemed baby Reid had other plans, like moving and squeezing your insides. You tried singing to her, telling stories, and everything that came to mind.

You gave up and hopped off the tub. You dried your body and decided to watch some TV. After a while, stuck in a random show, the noise lulled you to sleep without noticing.

Everything would have been perfect if it weren't for the fact that an intense pain woke you up suddenly. You didn't know the time, but the TV was still on. You tried to sit on the sofa, but the pain wouldn't leave you, so much so that it was hard for you to breathe. The twisting in your belly was stronger than you'd ever felt and scaring you.

"My sweet girl, I know you're eager to see us, but you have some days left in Mommy's womb, so try to be nice, okay?" You panted, trying to reason with your baby.

You weren't ready to give birth, let alone without Spencer.

But, again, baby Reid had her own plans.

Another sharp pang made you slouch on the sofa; this time, you felt something warm running down your legs. You looked down and saw the liquid drip onto the couch and slide to the floor.

Fuck. Your water just broke.

-

The morning was a rush for the whole team and the Tremont police. After an anonymous tip, they located the guy who fitted the profile and ended up being the unsub they were looking for. As he had a hostage, the team moved quickly to the warehouse where he kept captive his ex-girlfriend, the source of his rage. Before things went further, Rossi's shot ended with the unsub screaming in pain and the hostage a nervous wreck but unharmed.

Spencer couldn't believe it took them a whole week to locate the bastard, but it was finally done. So they returned to the precinct to wrap the last details and go home.

Spencer was pulling the case photos off the board when his phone started ringing. He saw it was you and hastened to answer. Usually, you didn't call him while he was working.

"Hello?"

But a loud grunt came to his ear instead of your sweet voice. Spencer's eyes widened.

“(Y/N)? Is that you?"

You barely could say a word, the intense pain reducing you to heavy breathing and whimpers.

"Spence-" you managed to say. "The baby. It hurts."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening."Where are you? What's wrong? Where is Tania?"

Too many questions, and you had answers for all of them. But it was difficult to say a word with the pain cursing your body. After the contraction subsided, you could speak.

"My water broke. I'm home, and Tania doesn't answer. I don't know- ahhhh, fuck!!!"

Shit. You were in labor and alone at home. Spencer wanted to throw up.

"Baby, listen to me. I will call 911, but I need you to breathe, okay?"

"No! Spencer, don't hang up. I need you," you cried.

Spencer paced frantically in the room as Emily, Morgan, and Rossi looked at him, worried.

To call 911? Who the hell was he talking to?

"Reid? What is it?" Morgan tried to get his attention, but Spencer's brain was trying to make a plan to help you without stopping talking to you.

“(Y/N), please. I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me, please?"

JJ and Hotch entered the room at that moment. Both frowned when they saw Spencer pacing and the rest standing and waiting to know what was going on and what to do to help Spencer.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?"

You couldn't reply to him, crying in pain instead. Spencer thought he could die of panic.

"Yes. But I can't move," you sobbed.

Hotch didn't need much to understand what was going on. Grabbing his phone, he called Penelope.

Spencer was reduced to dumb and didn't know what to do.

"Garcia, I need you to call 911 and dispatch an ambulance to..." he paused and looked at Spencer, who was talking to you. "Reid," Hotch named. When he got no response, he tried louder. "Reid! Where? Where is she?" Spencer's face found Hotch's.

"At my place," he told his boss.

"Garcia, an ambulance to Reid's address. Report a pregnant woman in labor that needs to go to the hospital. I need you to go there too. Make sure she gets to the hospital alright. I'll give you more information later."

Pregnant woman in labor at Spencer's address?

Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi shared the same confused looks.

"Baby, the help is on the way. Penelope knows and will help you to go to the hospital. She has a key, so don't worry. I'm on my way, okay? I'll call Tania too," Spencer informed you, moving to collect his things.

"Please, hurry up," you begged. As the call ended, Spencer turned to see his boss.

"Hotch. I have to-. I need to-," Spencer stuttered. Aaron nodded.

"It'll be okay; we are leaving now," he assured Spencer.

Morgan was the first to bring the elephant in the room.

"Can you tell us what's going on?"

Then, Spencer noticed the team hearing the whole ordeal.

"Uh. My 36-week pregnant girlfriend is giving birth to my daughter right now, and she's alone. I need to be there," Spencer succinctly explained as he dialed (Y/N)'s sister's number again without luck.

To say the team was shocked was an understatement. But there wasn't time to ask questions. They needed to move quickly.

Hotch was who took the lead.

"Morgan, you'll drive to the hospital with Reid and Prentiss now. I'll stay with JJ and Rossi to pack everything and follow you. The drive to DC is about three hours; make it two. I'll take care of the traffic police," he said to Morgan, who nodded, grabbing the car keys. "Prentiss, you'll get an open line with Garcia while she joins (Y/N) and takes her to the hospital. Now go!" Hotch instructed, now patting Spencer's back. "You'll get on time. Go," he told Spencer, who nodded and stomped from the room, followed by Morgan and Prentiss.

-

"Hey, Reid. We'll make it, kid," Morgan assured while driving on the highway, Emily as the copilot. In the back seat, Spencer couldn't stop bouncing his leg, worried about if the ambulance had already taken you to the hospital. On cue, Emily's phone went off.

"Garcia, you're on speaker," Emily announced.

"My lovelies, good news. I got your girl, boy Wonder, and we're heading to the hospital. Besides the pain, she's fine," Garcia recounted, and Spencer could breathe again.

"Can I talk to her?" Spencer asked.

"No, yet; they have her in the stretcher and with oxygen while monitoring her, but as we reach the hospital and will get her admitted, we can call you again. Nonetheless, she asked me to tell you she hated you for putting a baby in her. I really like this girl already," Garcia quipped, making laugh Emily and Morgan. Spencer's cheeks flushed.

"Garcia?" He sheepishly asked. "Can you tell her I love her and am on my way?"

Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other briefly. They still couldn't believe what was happening, but either way, they had a mission to accomplish: get to the hospital before you gave birth, so the resident genius could see his baby born.

"Sure thing. I will. I'll keep you posted," Garcia assured before hanging up.

Spencer could sense that Emily and Morgan were itching to cover him with questions, but knowing his nervous state, they were respectful enough not to say anything.

"I'm sorry, guys. I didn't tell you anything about (Y/N) before," he mumbled.

"And the baby," Emily added with a non-malice tone.

Spencer's face fell with embarrassment. They were his family, after all. And he kept this little big secret from them.

"But we get it, Reid. We do," Morgan ensured.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. We all know this job, and we want the best for our loved ones, keeping them safe," Prentiss said, turning to see Spencer, who nodded. "What I still can't believe is that you kept us in the dark for three years, and none of us ever suspected a thing. They should fire us," Emily added, making Spencer chuckle.

"What I can't believe is you were able to make someone fall in love with you," Morgan quipped, smirking and gaining a slap on the arm from Prentiss. "And get her pregnant! You have been having a game all this time, and I still thought I needed to be your wingman," Morgan scoffed.

"Worst wingman on earth. He had had to do all the work for himself," Emily added. The three laughed.

They were still with an ETA of one hour when Penelope Facetimed.

"Garcia! How is she?" Spencer rushed to ask.

"Hello to you, genius," Penelope greeted. "(Y/N) is already in a room. She's 7 centimeters of dilatation, so we're waiting," she informed, turning the camera to focus you on the bed, exhausted but relieved of being in the hospital already.

"Honey!" Spencer shouted as Garcia handed the phone.

"Are you coming?" you asked in a broken tone. You didn't have much energy at this point.

"Yes! On my way now. Morgan is driving us with Emily," he informed you.

"We're almost there, pretty girl!" Morgan yelled from the driver's seat.

You let a wary smile. Spencer only wanted to be there with you so he could hold you.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"No. No. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologize for, okay?" Spencer hastened to point.

"Our little big secret is no longer a secret," you pouted, feeling guilty about the whole ordeal.

"Baby, it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is you and our little girl being okay. Believe me; it's the only that matters to me. I'm sorry for leaving you," Spencer sniffled.

"I love you," you said, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"And I love you so much," Spencer declared, wiping his tears.

You both kept in Facetime for a while. Spencer tried to keep you focused on anything but the pain, though it was difficult when a deep contraction raked your body from time to time.

Spencer recited your favorite poems and stories and recounted your best memories together. As a natural thing, Emily, Morgan, or Penelope made questions and comments about the things you or Spencer said. That helped. You felt accompanied, not only by your boyfriend but also by the beautiful people who were taking care of you and him. If you ever thought Spencer's coworkers didn't care about him, now all those doubts are cleared.

"We're getting there in five!" Morgan announced.

"Garcia, please tell the staff Spencer is coming so they let him rush upstairs," Emily requested.

"On it!" Garcia chirped. “The doctor is here, so I’ll hang up. Boy Wonder, the third floor, hall to the left,” she informed before the call ended.

Pushing the brakes in front of the hospital’s entrance, Morgan turned to Spencer.

"Go, pretty boy. We'll be there waiting," the man assured.

"Go to see your girls," Emily added. Spencer’s eyes were full of tears.

"Thank you. Really, thank you so much," he voiced before climbing off the SUV and rushing inside the hospital.

-

The doctor announced you were almost ready to give birth now. Just another centimeter of dilation, and you’ll need to push. After he left, you squeezed Penelope’s hand hard. You weren't sure you could do this.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. You can do it. Spencer is already here,” she comforted you. Garcia had just ended her sentence when Spencer rushed inside the room, panting and looking frantically. When he spotted you, you could see the tears in his eyes.

“Spencer!” you cried. He quickly lugged to your side. Garcia sighed, relieved that he was there. Spencer held your hand now, kissing your temple.

“I’m here, my love. I’m here. I won’t leave again,” he chanted, stroking your damped hair.

It was Penelope’s cue to leave the couple alone. But before Garcia crossed the threshold, Spencer ran to her and wrapped her in the tightest embrace he ever gave her.

“Thank you, thank you. For everything,” he mumbled. Garcia could have started crying, but it would be time for that later.

“Anytime, my love. Now go back to your woman. We’ll be outside waiting.” A grateful Spencer nodded before joining you again.

You didn't reach the last centimeter until an hour later. Spencer stood by your side, chanting praises and pushing away your sweat with a cloth whenever you needed it.

When the time came, you were pushing with all the strength you left, but your little girl wasn’t doing it easy for you.

“Spencer, I can’t,” you sobbed. Spencer kissed your head and stroked your hand.

“I know you’re exhausted, my love. But you’re almost there. We’re going to meet our little girl. Want that, right, my little pumpkin?” he talked now to your belly. The waiting room is full of aunts and uncles, ready to see you. They already love you, even if they didn't know about you until three hours ago,” Spencer pointed, and you let out a little chuckle in the middle of the pain.

The feeling of being cared for and loved gave you the last ounce of energy you needed. In the next contraction, you pushed harder, ending with a loud baby cry. Your daughter was here.

When they put her in your arms, wrapped in a white blanket, you couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful baby in the world—the best combination between Spencer and you.

“You did so good, my love. She’s wonderful, and she’s here with us,” Spencer said, voice full of emotion and tears freely rolling down his cheeks.

You couldn’t stop looking at her.

“Our little big secret,” you cooed. “You’re a lucky baby already,” you whispered to her. Spencer chuckled.

“Should I go to tell them?” He asked you.

“They will kill you if you don’t,” you quipped.

When Spencer showed up in the waiting room, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ were there too.

All eyes were on him.

“A 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and 19.6 inches healthy baby girl,” Spencer announced, the biggest grin plastered on his face.

The room erupted in cheers and claps, everyone taking turns to hug the new father.

Once everyone calmed down, Spencer cleared his throat.

“I want to apologize for keeping this from you. I don't want you to think I don't trust or care enough to tell you about the important things in my life. It's just- you know,” Spencer trailed off. Rossi patted his shoulder.

“We know, kid. We really do,” the older man assured him.

“Yeah, Spence. We understand. That doesn't mean it’s not a big thing, but we get it,” JJ seconded.

“We are just jealous because Hotch was the only one who knew,” Garcia scoffed.

“Boss privilege, I guess,” Hotch shrugged, making the rest laugh.

“Well, being (Y/N) and baby Reid not a little big secret anymore, we can meet them properly, right?” Morgan pointed.

“Oh, yes! Please! I want to meet my goddaughter!” Garcia chirped, and Spencer looked at her, frowning.

“Don’t look at me like that, doctor. I won the privilege when I held that poor woman in pain,” she added.

“Maybe you’ll be the godmother, but I’ll be the cool aunt,” Emily chirped.

“And I’ll be Papa Rossi,” David seconded.

Spencer shook his head, laughing as everyone on the team fought for a place in his daughter's life.

He was so happy to have you and baby Reid. But now his happiness was complete knowing he could share it, and his whole found family could be part of it.

-------

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #little big secret #aperrywilliams #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[rolanpilled]

BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers

WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.

people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)

lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith

astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself

(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people

jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon

wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son

minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao

gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower

shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever

withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).

milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing

there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!

"Official Guild Letter"

"Letter from Barcus"

"Letter from Art"

"Letter from Valeria"

"Letter from Ravengard"

"Letter from Sebastian"

"Letter from Florrick"

"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)

"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)

"Letter from Dammon"

"Letter from Elminster"

"Letter from Nocturne"

"Letter from Voss"

"Letter from Hope"

"Letter from Mayrina"

"Letter from Nine-Fingers"

"Letter from Zevlor"

"Harp-stamped Letter"

Baldur's Mouth Gazette

If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.

#bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #wyll #karlach #lae'zel #gale #scratch #owlbear #shadowheart #halsin #minsc #jaheira #guild #barcus #alfira #valeria #ravengard #sebastian #florrick #gur #dammon #elminster #nocturne #voss #hope #mayrina #nine-fingers #zevlor #patch 5 #astarion

[lecsainz]

Hi! I love the way you write and you seem really sweet. No one really answers my requests so I’m not expecting you to😂. Why not try tho. Can I get a Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Half blood Reader. And the head cannons of our relationship and really go and do what you want with it. I love her sm and really want a good bit of head cannons of her.

I’m sorry if this sounds rude at all lol. I’m not trying to be.

HOLDING YOUR HAND

parings: clarisse la rue x fem!half-blood!reader

summary: that one where you date clarisse and what your relationship with her is like.

an: awww, thank you! you seem like an AMAZING person too, seriously! I loved your request, hope it turned out the way you wanted 😁 (note: I didn't specify which greek god the reader was because I didn't know if you wanted a specific one).

( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || main masterlist )

You and Clarisse have known each other since you first arrived at camp.

It took about two weeks for you to gather the courage to approach the daughter of Ares, which was odd for you because you were a social butterfly.

Clarisse wouldn't admit it, but she found it amusing when you came up to her and started to stutter, and to this day, whenever she remembers, she teases you about it.

After your first conversation, where you asked her to teach you sword fighting since you only knew how to use a bow and arrow until then, Clarisse gladly accepted. Her condition was that she'd only teach you if you joined her team in Capture the Flag, considering you were one of the best - if not the best, in Clarisse's words - at the camp.

Thanks to the training sessions, you and Clarisse began to bond as friends.

You talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. Clarisse felt she could be herself around you, knowing you wouldn't judge her.

Even if Clarisse was in the midst of a fight or giving orders alongside her half-siblings, she would stop as soon as she saw you, to come over for a conversation or to give you a hug.

She doesn't remember when she started feeling something for you, but she got scared that you might not feel the same and ended up distancing herself.

"Hey, Clarisse," you began tentatively, trying to keep your tone light yet concerned. "Mind if I join you?" She glanced up, surprise flickering across her features before settling into a guarded expression. Nodding silently, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. Sitting down, you couldn't ignore the tension radiating from her. "You've been a bit distant lately. Is everything alright?" Her gaze softened, a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes – a blend of vulnerability and the stubbornness that defined her. "It's nothing, just camp stuff," she shrugged, trying to brush it off. You tilted your head, offering a small smile. "You know, you can talk to me about anything. I'm here if you need someone to listen." Clarisse sighed, her guard starting to crack as she looked away, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on her shirt. "I just... I thought maybe I was getting too close. Didn't want things to get... complicated." Her vulnerability caught you off guard, but you reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Complicated how?" She hesitated, eyes darting back to yours, her expression a mix of confusion and a touch of fear. "I... I started feeling something... and I was afraid you didn't feel the same." Your heart skipped a beat as her words sank in. "Clarisse, I..." You searched for the right words, hoping to convey what you hadn't said before. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together. You mean a lot to me." She met your gaze, her walls crumbling slightly, allowing a glimpse of vulnerability to shine through. "Really?" "Yeah," you nodded earnestly. "Really." A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I've missed hanging out with you." "I've missed it too," you admitted, relieved that you were finally talking about the unspoken tension between you. There was a brief pause, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air before you broke the silence. "So, are we good?" Clarisse grinned, a hint of her usual spark returning. "Yeah, we're good."

It was no surprise to anyone at the camp when you two appeared together.

During the Capture the Flag game, Clarisse always kept an eye out for you. While she was engaged in a battle with a Hermes kid, she ended up falling, and you intervened just in time, nearly hitting the boy with an arrow.

"Need a hand?" You asked with a smile at your girlfriend. "I could've handled it myself," she grumbled, starting to get up. "A 'thank you' would be nice," you offered your hand to her. She accepted the help to stand. "I'm holding your hand," she murmurs, taking yours, and you lift her, shaking your head, amused by her. Clarisse stops and looks at your hands together with a huge smile. Before you could say anything, a noise from the forest interrupted, and Clarisse planted a kiss on your cheek before darting off, leaving you standing there, trying to process what just happened.

Clarisse definitely loves giving bear hugs.

She would wake up earlier just to spend extra time with you without anyone interrupting.

When Clarisse's siblings from the Ares cabin tease her about being a lovesick fool, she doesn't even bother defending herself anymore because it's true, and she's not ashamed to admit it.

Your love language is physical touch, so she wouldn't mind receiving hugs and holding your hand all day long.

"Good morning!" You'd hug her from behind at the Ares table, planting a kiss on her cheek, realizing she was annoyed, then darting off to your own table. When you glanced back at the brunette, you'd see her with a huge goofy smile amidst the cheers and teasing from her siblings.

While Clarisse trains, you would go just to watch her. She'd try to impress you, but if she made a mistake, she'd be extremely embarrassed, yet she wouldn't admit it, claiming that the slip was part of her plan for that move that made her fall to the ground.

"And that's how you catch your opponent off guard," she'd explain as she gets up from the ground. "Yeah, right," you start laughing at her. "Hey, I'm serious." Clarisse brushes off the dirt from her clothes, trying to save face.

She'd dislike everyone else but seeing you would instantly brighten her day by 100% .

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue headcanons #clarisse la rue oneshot #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson

[aksm]

People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

#zelda #zelink #totk thoughts #loz spoilers #totk spoilers #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #tloz botw #tloz totk #loz totk #loz botw #loz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #breath

[rosyblooom]

a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, and 901,885 others

charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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charles_leclerc posted to his story!

[ caption: Wow. ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

liked by iamrebbecad, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 599,042 others

yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

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1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25

#f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #f1 imagine #cl16 x you #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x female reader #charles x y/n #charles x you #charles leclerc fanfic #smau #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 instagram au #fanfic #f1 fic #charles x reader #cl16 fic #f1 scenario #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 x you

[popamolly]

‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL!’ ALASTOR

summary. In the midst of a grand party, a sudden interruption occurs as uniformed officers question Madam Duvalier about the disappearance of their former chauffeur, Charles Ray. Tensions rise as suspicions linger, but Madam Duvalier swiftly redirects attention with her charm. Meanwhile, you stands alone, burdened by secrets and uncertainties, with only Alastor offering a silent comfort that belies darker truths lurking beneath the surface.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, dark romance, murder, mention of blood/gore, agegap (you're in your 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s), alastor preys on your innocence, eventual smut, not a happy ending, barely edited

In the soft light of early morning, the world seemed to slow down as you and Alastor found yourselves immersed in the warmth of a bath together. The steam rose around you, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere as you leaned back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

Alastor's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he placed gentle kisses along your shoulder, each touch sending a ripple of warmth through your body. The water lapped gently against your skin, soothing away any lingering traces of tension from the night before.

"Let's strike a deal," Alastor whispered against your skin, his breath teasing your ear. "I'll court you properly, and all you have to do is accept me as I am."

Your fingers entwined with his, silently affirming your love and connection. "Whether you're a radio host or not, I've accepted you, Alastor," you murmured, meeting his gaze with a tender smile. "Nothing can change that."

"Really?" Alastor wanted desperately to believe your words, holding onto hope as if it were precious. "Once we make a deal, it's set in stone."

"I promise I won't break it," you assured him, your hands trailing down his chest absentmindedly.

"Is that so?" Alastor tilted his head in amusement, a grin playing on his lips as he observed you. "Well, I suppose I'll have no choice but to trust you."

Your laughter filled the air briefly before silence settled in, your mind consumed by worries. This was your second night escaping to be with Alastor, knowing your mother was seething with anger back home. Facing her wrath seemed daunting, especially with the ball happening today. How would you tell her about your love for someone she wouldn't approve of?

"A penny for your thoughts?" Alastor's voice broke through your thoughts, the water around you both still as you met his gaze, nerves evident on your face.

"I'm thinking about my mother," you confessed with a sigh. "She wants me to marry someone she picks, either an older wealthy man or a young arrogant one."

"The party tonight is solely to find me a match she approves of," you added with a frown. "How do I even begin to talk to her about us?"

Alastor's eye twitched slightly in annoyance at a woman he hadn't even met yet. "She's standing in the way of your happiness," he noted. "How cruel of her."

"But perhaps," you muttered, "She only wants what's best for me."

"A woman like her won't be satisfied with her daughter marrying someone she deems insignificant," Alastor's words cut through the air, casting a shadow on your mother's intentions. "You might have to prepare for the worst. Your mother might not prioritize your happiness, whereas I want to ensure it," he continued, his finger trailing along your chin. "In the end, you may have to make a choice."

"Why should I have to choose? Why must I be forced into such a position?" You looked up at Alastor, frustration and confusion evident in your voice.

Alastor's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I know it's not fair, my dear," he said gently, reaching out to caress your cheek. "But sometimes, life presents us with difficult choices."

"I don't want to lose you," you admitted, fear creeping into your words.

Alastor's gaze held yours firmly. "And you won't," he vowed. "No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side."

You leaned into his touch, finding solace in his unwavering support. "I just wish things weren't so complicated," you whispered.

"It would be less rewarding if it was easy," Alastor murmured, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "But we'll face this together, whatever may come."

As the morning light filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the bath, you shared quiet moments of affection and closeness, basking in the love that enveloped you both. In that serene morning embrace, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor each precious second together, grateful for the bond that united your hearts.

Alastor's resolve began to waver, his feelings for you becoming undeniable. Seeing you distressed tore at him in ways he couldn't explain. Whoever dared to oppose your relationship with him would simply have to die, for your happiness was now intricately intertwined with his own.

With a heavy heart but a newfound determination, Alastor made a silent vow to protect you at all costs, even if it meant defying the expectations of society or facing dire consequences, because suddenly he didn't care about himself anymore now that you were in his life— in his arms. Love had a way of reshaping priorities, and in that moment, Alastor realized that he would go to great lengths to ensure your happiness, even if it meant challenging the very fabric of the world around you.

The first light of morning painted the sky in hues of pink and gold as Alastor escorted you back to your home. The tranquility of the night gave way to the bustling streets, a stark reminder of the reality awaiting both of you.

As you approached your residence, a sense of unease settled over you. Your mother's reaction was unpredictable, especially after your absence throughout the night. Alastor tightened his grip slightly, offering silent reassurance as you prepared to face the inevitable.

The moment you stepped through the front door, your mother rushed out to meet you, her face etched with worry and anger. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I've been?" Her words tumbled out in a mix of relief and frustration.

You tried to explain, but her gaze fell upon Alastor, her expression hardening. "And who is this?" she demanded, her tone laced with disapproval.

Alastor stepped forward, his demeanor calm yet resolute. "I am Alastor," he introduced himself, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "I apologize for any concern caused. I assure you, my intentions are honorable."

Your mother's eyes narrowed with a humorless laugh as she studied Alastor, her skepticism palpable. "Stealing my daughter for nighttime rendezvous is far from honorable. If anything, it's a dishonor to my family and yours, whoever your family may be. If you truly care for my daughter, then you would court her properly and salvage whatever dignity she has left."

"He intends to, mother," you spoke up, your gaze challenging hers.

"Well, I should hope so," your mother replied, her gaze assessing Alastor's outfit. "If he intends to impress me, then he is already failing miserably. Tell me, what is your family name?"

"I have no family name," Alastor answered honestly.

"Oh?" Your mother glanced at you before returning her gaze to Alastor, her tone condescending. "So an orphan with no wealth. I assume you are of middle class, if not lower. What job do you have?"

"I am a radio show host-" Alastor began, but your mother's laughter cut him off.

Her lack of politeness made your blood boil, and you struggled to maintain composure. Realizing her rudeness, she covered her mouth with a shake of her head. "Excuse me, but I am wasting my time even conversing with you, Alastor."

"Mother-!" you began to argue, but her sharp voice cut you off.

"You will leave my house at once and never speak to my daughter again, is that understood?" she told Alastor, her tone final and cold.

Alastor's response was a bone-chilling smile as he bowed slightly. "Understood," he replied before turning to leave.

"Alastor, wait, I will come with you," you started to say, but his warm touch on your arm stopped you in your tracks.

"I will see you tonight, darling. It seems your mother needs some convincing that I am the right man for you," Alastor said softly, leaning down to place a lingering kiss on your knuckles. "Until tonight."

"Alastor..." The word hung in the air, but he was already gone, leaving you with a whirlwind of emotions and the weight of uncertainty. The one thing you seemed to have control over in your life was slipping away from your fingers, and your mother was to blame. This was all because of her.

You were tired of the glitz and glamour, tired of always being the sweet, obedient Duvalier without a thought to your own desires. It was frustrating and suffocating. Alastor had been the breath of fresh air you'd been wanting, needing in your life. Without him, you were sure you'd snap with insanity. He brought passion, excitement, and genuine love into your world, something your mother seemed incapable of understanding. Your mother's words replayed in your mind, her insistence on societal norms and status crushing your spirit. The sting of her words lingered, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Alastor's touch. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him, not after everything you'd shared.

"I can't believe you!" You turned around to face your mother, your emotions spilling over as you finally lashed out that built upon anger you've been holding back, "How could you treat him that way?"

"I did what was necessary," your mother replied calmly, not meeting your gaze as she switched her cane from her right hand to her left.

"Necessary? You just sent away the man I love!" Your voice cracked with emotion.

"He was not suitable," your mother insisted, her tone firm.

"Suitable? What does that even mean to you? Money? Status? " Your frustration bubbled over, hands balling into fists at your sides. "Do you even care about my happiness?"

"Of course, I do," your mother retorted, her facade faltering for a moment.

"Then why can't you see that Alastor makes me happy?" Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with her.

"He is not from our world, dear," your mother said softly, her tone tinged with slight regret but she remained composed.

"But he cares for me, Mother. Isn't that what truly matters?" You wiped away a tear, your heart heavy with disappointment.

"I want what's best for you," your mother replied.

"And I want to be with Alastor," you countered, your resolve unwavering. The tension hung thick in the air, both of you standing firm in your beliefs. It was a battle between tradition and love, expectations and desires, "Just because you failed at love doesn't mean I should follow in your footsteps."

Just as those harsh words left your mouth, your mother's hand collided with your cheek. The stinging imprint left on your face hardly matched the weight of your heavy heart as you slowly brought your hand to your cheek, the last hopefulness you held out for your mother shattering to a million pieces.

Your mother clears her throat, turning to look at the head maid Corrine with a small wavering smile, "Corrine, see to it that my daughter gets settled for the day and prepared for the night ahead. We need her looking her best, don't we?"

Your mother's request felt like a final blow, leaving you feeling helpless and trapped in a world where your desires were constantly overshadowed by expectations and appearances.

As Corrine led you upstairs, her touch was gentle but her eyes reflected a deep understanding of your pain. The tears streaming down your cheeks were a silent testament to the turmoil within you, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat.

In your room, as Corrine helped you settle in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation. The upcoming evening, with its planned festivities and forced smiles, loomed over you like a dark cloud.

As you gazed out of the window, watching the world pass by, a spark of determination flickered within you. You may have been dealt a harsh hand, but you refused to let it break you completely. Tonight, amidst the glittering party, you would find a way to assert your own voice and reclaim a measure of control over your life once and for all- you wanted to be with Alastor and nothing was going to stand in your way. Not even your mother.

As the hours passed and evening approached, the grandeur of the ball loomed larger in your mind. Despite your mother's expectations and demands, you found solace in the routine of getting ready for the event.

The maids fluttered around you, their expert hands tending to every detail of your appearance. A dress was selected, jewels were carefully chosen, and hair was styled to perfection. Yet, amidst the flurry of activity, your mind was elsewhere.

Alastor consumed your thoughts, his absence a heavy presence in the midst of preparations. Would he show up tonight? The hope was mingled with uncertainty, creating a tumultuous storm of emotions within you.

Ignoring your mother's attempts at conversation throughout the day, you focused on the vision of Alastor standing before you, his eyes filled with determination and love. The idea of him breaking through the barriers of societal expectations to be with you filled you with a sense of longing and anticipation.

As the final touches were made to your appearance, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror. The image that stared back at you was poised and elegant, yet underneath the facade was a woman ready to challenge the norms and embrace her own happiness.

With a deep breath, you made your way downstairs to join the festivities, your heart fluttering with both excitement. Tonight would be a turning point, a chance to assert your desires and perhaps, just perhaps, find the courage to defy expectations for the one you loved.

Throughout the evening, various suitors approached you, each with their own attempts to court you and earn the privilege of a dance. They showered you with compliments, asked about your interests, and tried to charm you with their status.

You remained polite, engaging in light conversation and accepting their requests to dance. One suitor, a young nobleman with a charming smile, engaged in conversation about your family's estate and the upcoming social events. Another, a dashing gentleman with impeccable manners, complimented your gown and expressed admiration for your poise on the dance floor.

As the night progressed, the constant stream of suitors became a blur, their words blending into a symphony of polite gestures and formalities. Despite their efforts, none of them could capture your full attention, for your heart belonged to Alastor.

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, all the while longing for the moment when Alastor would make his grand entrance and sweep you away from the pretense and formality of the ball. His presence was the missing piece, the one that would make the evening truly memorable and meaningful.

As you stood by the refreshment table, trying to ease your dizzy mind from all the twirling and socializing, a familiar voice sent a jolt of excitement through you.

"May I have this dance?" Alastor's voice, warm and familiar, reached your ears from behind. Turning around, your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes, of course," you replied, trying to contain the urge to tackle him in a hug. Instead, you extended your hand, which he took with a gentle grasp, leading you to the dance floor.

You moved together in rhythm to the music, the world around you fading into the background. It was just the two of you, lost in the moment, lost in each other's eyes. The tension and formality of the evening melted away, replaced by a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Alastor's presence was like a soothing balm to your soul, grounding you amidst the whirlwind of the ball. With each step and turn, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that transcended words.

As the dance came to an end, Alastor held you close, his gaze filled with affection and a hint of mischief. "I told you I would see you tonight, darling," he whispered, a smile playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a surge of happiness and contentment wash over you. In that moment, surrounded by the music and the magic of the ball, you knew that everything would be alright as long as you had Alastor by your side.

"I never doubted you," you replied softly, your gaze locked with Alastor's. In that moment, all your worries faded into the background, leaving only the warmth of his presence.

As the music and laughter filled the ballroom, a slight tension rippled through the crowd as a group of uniformed officers made an unexpected entrance. Your eyebrows furrowed with worry as you watched them escort your mother into the parlor, their expressions curious and attentive rather than stern.

Sensing something unusual, you quickly excused yourself from Alastor as you made your way through the crowd of hushed whispers. Anxiety gnawed at your stomach as you followed the men into the parlor, where your mother stood with a slightly puzzled expression.

"What's going on?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

The leader of the group stepped forward, his tone respectful but probing. "Madam Duvalier, we're here to ask you a few questions regarding the recent disappearance of Charles Ray, your former chauffeur," he explained, his words causing a murmur of surprise among the gathered guests.

"Of all times to show up, you do it at the biggest party I've hosted to date," Your mother's tone wavered between annoyance and mild relief, her eyes betraying a flicker of apprehension. "Very well, I'll do my best to assist you," she replied, her voice composed despite the tension in the room.

"Mister Charles Ray was last seen at his job post according to your servants but his family has not seen nor made contact with him since yesterday night," the Sheriff continued, his tone grave. "His sudden disappearance has raised concerns."

"Well, if I had a sound mind, I would have fired him, as I haven't seen him for the past few days. I assumed he had a family emergency to attend to, or at least it better have been a family emergency if he left without informing me," Your mother explained, her frustration evident. "Wherever he is, you won't find him here."

The officer nodded and turned to you, "Any comments to add, Ms. Duvalier?"

You felt a pang of unease at being dragged into the situation, the weight of the questioning casting a shadow over the festive evening. "Mr. Ray escorted me somewhere only the night before," you admitted honestly. "But after an hour or so, we parted ways. That was the last I saw him."

"And where was this place?" The officer pressed, his gaze scrutinizing.

"My daughter will answer no more questions without a lawyer present," Your mother intervened firmly, her grip on your arm conveying a silent urgency to stop speaking.

"Corrine, please see them out," Your mother instructed the maid, her voice masking the underlying tension. "I will have no more interruptions on this happy day."

As Corrine escorted the officers out, you couldn't shake off the sense of unease that lingered in the air. The officers' suspicion was palpable, their eyes lingering on you with an unspoken question.

"We will speak of this later," your mother whispered to you, her tone cryptic yet filled with a sense of urgency. With a practiced smile, she turned toward the crowded guests, her charming aura masking the underlying tension. "Let's not let this unfortunate incident dampen our spirits. Shall we return to the ballroom and continue the festivities?"

The guests, eager to move past the momentary disruption, followed your mother's lead, their chatter and laughter gradually filling the air once again. You stood alone in the parlor, the gravity of the situation settling in as you exchanged a look with Alastor who approached you, his presence a welcome comfort despite the weight of the situation. His hand on your shoulder was a silent reassurance, but you couldn't ignore the sinking feeling you felt from his oddly comforting touch, a tiny voice in the back of your mind yelling something that you couldn't quite make out.

Alastor's gaze held a mix of understanding and caution, a silent acknowledgment of the delicate balance between truth and deception. For it was only he who knew the truth, because it was he who buried Mr.Ray ray six feet under.

You watched the guests return to the ballroom, the facade of the happy occasion seemed to crack, revealing the underlying tension and secrets that lurked beneath the surface. You knew that the night would never be the same, that the mystery of Mr. Ray's disappearance would haunt you until the truth was uncovered.

But for now, you plastered on a smile and rejoined the festivities with Alastor, knowing that behind the masks and smiles, lies and secrets danced in the shadows, waiting to be exposed.

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

── ꒰ ‧˚ author’s note ｡˚ ꒱ Sorry this took so long to come out, whoopsie. but to make it up to you; this story will be updated EVERY SATURDAY from now on. That being said, you will be getting another chapter this Saturday :) thank you for the constant love and support. like, comments, and reblog are appreciated.

── ꒰ ‧˚ story taglist ｡˚ ꒱

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#𖤐popamolly #𖤐popamollyposts #hazbin hotel fiction #hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel #smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor #radio demon #alastor x female reader smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor smut

[talaok]

Hiii, I saw you are accepting requests so I have one. Joel and the reader are married and one day they have a stupid fight but she gets really mad. Joel doesn't want to apologize and she decided to make a sex string. She starts to tease him. She starts to change clothes in front of him, she starts to use nice lingeries and put lotion on her body before go to sleep. One day Joel gives up and says sorry and then they have sex.

Sorry for writing a long request . Thank you 😊

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: sexual tension and allusion to smut

a/n: Whoever you are anon, I owe you a HUGE apology. I am terribly sorry for the wait, really, i don't know what happened, im sorry

You weren't someone who took things personally, nor did you deem yourself touchy, but everything has its limit.

He had called you a neat freak. I repeat, a neat freak

You, his wife, who he was supposed to love and support 'till death did you part.

He had called you a neat freak just because you had(rightfully) gotten mad at him when (for the millionth time) he had left his clothes all over the bedroom floor. 

And you had (again, rightfully) gotten mad, but he (for some godforsaken reason) didn't even want to think of the possibility of apologizing.

So you had done the most reasonable thing,

You started to make him pay

Now Joel Miller was a strong man, he remained unfazed by whatever life threw at him, he was not a man who was easy to put in a difficult position, but most importantly, he was not a man who liked to surrender.

But to every strength, there's a weakness, and Joel Miller's only weakness, together with his daughter... was you

Or more accurately,

The fact that he couldn't resist, you

So when you started changing in front of him, when, at the end of the day, you stripped slowly right in front of where he was lying on the bed... when you stopped wearing shorts to sleep and started only wearing panties and the tiniest tops or one of his shirts... when you put on that sexy little lingerie you had bought as a surprise for his birthday just before bed, biting down a smirk as you watched his jaw fall slack when you propped one of your legs on the bed so you could slowly massage it with lotion...

all those times, you saw his reaction, you saw the way his eyes darkened, the way he palmed his crotch thinking you couldn't see. But even as he approached you, his hands just as sultry as his voice you had pushed him away, because he hadn't done the one thing you wanted to,

and until he was going to admit defeat and do it, he was gonna have to suffer.

But today... today as you applied lotion to your whole body, his hands felt especially good.

"hello there" he murmured from behind you, his lips already on your neck and his hands on your waist.

"If you think something's gonna happen, you're wrong Joel"

"c'mon sweetheart, you've been torturing me all week" he breathed, his hands trying to lower down to your butt before you slapped them away

"I haven't been torturing you" you corrected "You've been torturing yourself." you watched as he frowned, his eyes too busy drinking every inch of you to look into your own "If you want this to be over, you can simply apologize"

And you would have liked to be able to say that you didn't expect what he did next, but the truth was that Joel Miller was incredibly predictable for someone who knew him as well as you did.

And the truth was, that it was a miracle he hadn't caved in the first day, and now he had reached his limit. 

He was so tired, and god but he had missed you

"I'm sorry darlin'" 

You didn't even bother to hide the smug smirk erupting on your face.

"say it like you mean it" you encouraged, placing the bottle of lotion on the nightstand before turning towards him, finding him inches away from your own face.

"I mean it, I'm sorry sweetheart" he promised, his big hazel eyes only helping him out right now "I won't do it again. I apologize"

"I'm not a neat freak?"

"no" he shook his head, one of his hands going to your cheek to stroke it while the other remained on your waist "You're not a neat freak sugar, you're the most amazing wife anyone could have asked for" he murmured, meeting his lips with yours "and you're so hot you drive me crazy"

"mhh, am I now?" you hummed, a mischievous tint in your tone and in your fingers in the way they played on his chest.

"you are" he nodded, slowly pushing you onto the bed, and crawling on top of you 

A soft laugh bubbled inside your chest as you wrapped your ankles around his back "What else am I?" you murmured to his ear, as he busied his mouth with your neck

"You're always right," he said, one of his hands groping your boobs through the fire-red bra "And you're smart... much smarter than me" he groaned when you grinded up on the hard bulge probing from his boxers "ad you- you're-fuck-" his breath caught as your hand seeped underneath his underwear and freed his cock 

"What?" you asked

"You're fucking perfect sweetheart"

"mhh" you hummed happily, biting your lip as you guided him to your entrance "and don't you ever forget it again"

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller x female reader #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo

[rxmqnova]

Wanda is R's mother

R gets assigned to Natasha's classroom. And has trouble getting used to her Mommy's girlfriend being her teacher.

The teacher

Y/N: 5 years old ——————————

NO ONE'S POV "Y/N, come on. We don't have all day. I need to go to work" Wanda sighs, attempting to get her daughter out of the car.

"Nooo" Y/N cries out, holding tightly onto her car seat while Wanda's trying to lift her up again.

Ignoring her daughter's cries, Wanda finally manages to get Y/N out of the car, carrying her to the classroom.

Natasha furrows her brows when she sees her girlfriend appear in the classroom, immediately standing up and walking to her.

"Hi, is everything okay?" She asks, noticing Y/N's pout, puffy eyes and wet cheeks. "Oh no, what happened, Y/N/N?" She asks softly, placing her hand on Y/N's back, only for Y/N to push her hand away.

"That wasn't nice, Y/N. What do you say to Natasha?" Wanda raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Natasha" Y/N mumbles out.

"That's okay" Natasha smiles at the little girl, not receiving a smile back as she normally would.

It's been only a few days since Y/N started going to school, but ever since then her relationship with Natasha has only gotten worse. She loves Natasha, she's her second favorite person after her mommy, but she still can't accept the fact that her mommy's girlfriend is her teacher for the next few years.

"Alright, honey. Have a good day" Wanda stands Y/N on the ground, giving her a smile even though the little girl is just pouting with her arms crossed over her chest.

Wanda lets out a sigh and just kisses her daughter's forehead before telling her girlfriend goodbye and leaving the classroom.

Natasha glances at the little girl with concern. She would want nothing more than to comfort her, but she knows too well that it would only get worse, so she just leaves the tiny troublemaker alone.

Meanwhile Y/N's now sitting on her seat in the first row, wishing she would be taller so she could sit in the back of the classroom.

Natasha knows Y/N's upset, but when the lesson starts and Y/N doesn't do anything else than staring out of the window she knows she needs to have a talk with her.

"Y/N, can you come here for a moment?" Natasha asks softly right after the first lesson ends and gets a shake of a head from the little girl.

"Alright" The redhead sighs to herself and makes her way over to Y/N. "No, go away, Natasha" Y/N whines, her little eyes filling with tears. "Don't want to talk to you" She pouts, looking up at the redhead who's a little clueless about what to do.

She wants to comfort the tiny girl, but that could result into a meltdown and Natasha definitely doesn't want that. Or she can just let it be and have a talk with Y/N back home.

She decides to leave the talk at home and goes back to her desk, checking Y/N up every now and then to make sure she's alright.

———

When the endless school day finally comes to an end and all of the children leave with their parents, besides Y/N as she's going home with Natasha of course, the redhead walks to Y/N's desk where the little girl keeps sitting.

"Sweetheart, let's go home, yeah?" She says softly with a smile.

"Want mommy to come for me" Y/N mumbles out, not looking at the woman in front of her.

"Honey, mommy is still at work you know that" Natasha sighs, knowing this won't be as easy as she thought it would be. "Do you want to tell me what got you so upset today, bubs?" She tries only to get a shake of a head in response.

"… How about we stop at ice cream on the way home, hm? Would that make you feel better?" Natasha knows this never fails, Y/N just can't say no to ice cream and luckily for Natasha, it works this time too and she gets a small nod from the little trouble.

Y/N jumps down from her chair and follows Natasha out of the classroom, and to the car. Natasha sighs in relief when Y/N's secured in the backseat and she's sitting behind the wheel.

Just like Natasha promised, she drives them to Y/N's favorite ice cream parlor. That makes Y/N smile for the first time today, especially when she gets her favorite flavor.

Now both girls are sitting on the bench nearby the ice cream parlor, Y/N's swinging her legs and happily eating her ice cream while Natasha's watching her with a soft smile.

"Now, how about you tell me what's going on, honey?" Natasha asks just when Y/N finishes the sweet treat.

"Nothing" The little girl mumbles out, avoiding any possible eye-contact with the redhead.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, sweetheart" Natasha raises an eyebrow on which Y/N lets out a sigh. "You can tell me anything, you know that, sweetheart"

"… I don't like that you're my teacher" The tiny girl mumbles out quietly, hoping Natasha didn't hear it.

"Why so, sweetheart?" The redhead asks softly, placing her hand on Y/N's back and giving her back a little rub to comfort her.

"You're my mommy's girlfriend" Y/N says, finally looking up at Natasha.

"I am, and you and I are really good friends, aren't we? Isn't it fun we get to spend more time together?" Natasha smiles, trying to cheer up the little troublemaker.

"It's weird" Y/N pouts, so Natasha playfully pouts back and boops Y/N's nose which finally causes a giggle from the little girl.

"It has some benefits, I can help you with homework" Natasha teases which catches Y/N's attention.

"Really?" Y/N asks curiously.

"Of course, but only if you promise me there won't be any more tears before school" Natasha raises an eyebrow playfully, earning a nod from the tiny Maximoff.

"I promise, Natty" Y/N smiles, making Natasha smile back.

"Good. Should we go home and watch a cartoon together before mommy comes back home from work?" Natasha smiles, running her fingers through Y/N's hair, earning an immediate nod.

And that's how Wanda finds them when she comes home, her two favorite girls cuddled up on the couch, watching Y/N's favorite cartoon. Wanda surely can't wait to join her girls for a movie night and cuddles.

----------------------

I've spent my entire weekend by listening to ttpd <33

Wanda Maximoff masterlist

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

__

She was perfectly happy. 

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 

No matter. 

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 

Good show, Lady Barlow. 

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #enemies to lovers #multi-part fic #reader insert #whoops i didn't expect this request to turn into a multiple part thing but here we are #unsure of how many parts but probably no more than 4-5? #idk

[ltbunny]

Ex husband price brain worms again, c.w/ nsfw, unedited, bad writing, I've never published nsfw before

It's your ex-husband, Price's birthday, and the last thing you expect is for him to show up, with a sweet, suave smile on his face

It's not even his custody day but he says "come on, love. I wanted us to spend it together, like a family. You're really not going to let me take my favourite two girls out for my own birthday?"

All you can do is roll your eyes and let him as he walks in, leaning down and leaving a small peck on your forehead as your daughter runs down the stairs to hug her dad, squealing.

He's adamant about cooking lunch for you two, but you stop him

"Oh, come off it, John, I'll cook since it's your birthday, and you keep saying you'll take us out"

He gets dragged off to play teaparty with the little princess and comes back after a while, his arms slot around your waist, swaying side to side softly as you half heartedly try to stop him, he just grins and nestles his head into the crook of your neck,

"Let the 'birthday boy' hug his wife, love."

"Ex-wife, john."

"Mhm, whatever makes you happy. Happy wife, happy life."

Lunch is served, and the three of you spend the rest of the day going shopping, prices idea. Dollhouse, cars, legos, Barbie, slime, whatever the kid wants, and some small gold necklace for you, even though you won't accept it,

"They're too much, John, stop it-"

"But, love, this is your favourite design and the colour. It'll look beautiful on you."

He buys it and even gets the jeweller to engrave a small j.p on the back of the charm while you're not looking.

He takes you two to a small fancy restaurant at the end of the day, your daughter playing with her new toys on the table, while John's hand holds yours on the table.

"Might retire soon, getting up there in age, love," his eyes watch the way your light up slightly, looking at him before turning away slightly, seeing his gaze, "ill be able to be around more often, wasn't that one of your complaints, I was too busy, so I gave you a little one."

You smack his arm lightly, "Oh, shush, John. She'll be happy. She is always saying how she misses her dad. She keeps asking for a little brother, says everyone in class has one except her," You chuckle softly

At the end of dinner, he drives you two back home, your daughter tuckered out, he picks her up and takes her to her room, tucking her in, kissing her forehead softly, "sorry, I'm not here much, princess, I promise to be around more, okay?"

He comes downstairs and kisses your cheek as you swat him off lightly,

"Stop it, John, you know that's not appropriate,"

"Mhm, whatever you say love, come help me take the things out the car will you?"

The night ends with price bending you over in the backseat, fucking you desperately,

"Fuck, love, I missed this grip, you might have a hard time saying it but your pussy's been missing me, huh? The guys you bring round ain't big enough for ya anymore? Don't worry, daddy's here."

Your fingers grip the car seat, squealing every time he thrusts in

"There's only one thing I wanted for my birthday, you know, love? It's been real lonely up by myself sometimes, and been thinking," he hums lowly, grinding deep inside you while you struggle to even keep up with his pace let alone words, he moves over you, one hand groping your breast, teasing the nipple, the other coming up to your clit, rubbing it along with the harsh pace, "been thinking bout this pussy, and getting the present of life, ain't that cute?"

You gasp, your pussy squeezing around his cock tighter as he starts rubbing your clit faster, "John, please- is, is too much," you moan

"You're doing so well for me, mama, you want another little one too, right? You always said one feels bad, we need to give our little baby a sibling,"

"John- holy shit," your legs shake as he presses you down against the seats, every thrust with one purpose, "please, please, I'm so close!"

He keeps going until he feels your legs trembling, three loads in, his fingers massaging your clit, his lips kissing your neck, leaving hickeys for everyone to see.

You wake up in your bed, listening to John's snoring as you yawn, shifting to get up slightly, his arms tighten around you and his eyes open slightly.

"Mmhm, best birthday ever."

He mumbles before he starts snoring again

#chubby reader #i forgot how to tag #its been like 4 months #captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #ex-husband price #cod x reader #cod mwii #price x reader #captain price #biting my hand so hard rn

[sebscore]

Can you write something with Kimi in his Alfa Romeo seasons and driver!reader? I miss him so much :(

GIDDY GOODBYES 

pairings: raikkonen family x driver!reader

author's note: is this inspired by that cute antonio and kimi moment in abu dhabi '21? Yes. i miss him too :((

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''You want to swap helmets later?'' Kimi asked her, the sound of screaming and applauding fans surrounding them as they stood on the moving bus. 

Her eyes widened as the question left his lips, surprised that the Alfa Romeo driver would want to do the tradition with her. ''Uh, yeah, sure. I would love to.'' Her slightly open mouth turned into a bright smile. 

''Rianna has been asking for you the entire week so you can see her then as well.'' The Finn grinned. The female driver had been Kimi's daughter's favourite driver since the girl had started attending the F1 races. 

Y/N chuckled at his words. ''I'll bring some merch for her and Ace.'' 

''Really? That's very sweet, they'll like it a lot.'' Kimi appreciated all the time she would spend with his kids, knowing the joy it brought to them. 

''I love spoiling my fans,'' she smiled, ''as long as I get like a cool helmet from you, though! I'm very particular about my collection.'' 

The young woman was known for all the helmets of other drivers she had received over the years. She had proudly shown them off in a livestream after someone asked about the drivers she had swapped helmets with, even admitting she had to buy several extra shelves to store all of them. 

''I was told, I'll do my best.'' Kimi laughed, recalling someone from the Alfa Romeo team telling him about the driver's special collection as soon as he informed them about his desire to swap helmets with her. 

The Iceman didn't disappoint, gifting her one of his more unique helmet designs of the season with a short, but sentimental message written on the side: ''You've proven them wrong. Keep going. Stay smiling.'' His signature penned under it. 

Y/N had written a longer goodbye: ''Thank you for all the great races you have given us. It was an honour to share the track with you these last years. Good luck with your ice cubes, Iceman :)'' 

They mumbled a ''thank you'' towards each other as they handed one another their helmets, reading the messages with soft smiles on their faces. The pair posed for a picture together, their own respective team's photographers and Kimi's wife, Minttu, snapping a photo of them. 

''I'm gonna miss your silence.'' Y/N chuckled, causing others to do so as well. 

''I will miss your loudness.'' Kimi retorted, having everyone laugh even harder at his blunt and witty response. 

The Finn reached out to her with his free arm, initiating a hug with the young woman. She was caught off guard. The man had never offered her an embrace before- their physical interactions only going as far as a fistbump. 

She accepted, wrapping her own free arm briefly around him and resting her hand on his back. Kimi patted her own back a few times. 

The pair pulled back, satisfied smiles on both their faces. The Alfa Romeo driver crouched down next to his daughter. ''We will see her soon, okay?'' He reassured Rianna, who didn't take her eyes off the female driver as she absentmindedly nodded to what her father was saying. 

''You can visit me and we can eat a lot of food together.'' Y/N told the small girl. Rianna smiled brightly at her words, nodding her head. 

''Say bye bye to Y/N.'' Kimi whispered to her. 

Rianna stepped out of her father's arms. ''Bye bye, Y/N.'' The little girl skipped over to her, jumping into the older woman's embrace. ''Bye bye.'' Y/N kissed the side of Rianna's head, touched by the youngest Raikkonen's love. 

As the girls pulled apart, Kimi picked his daughter up- facing his, now, former competitor. ''Have a safe trip home, okay?'' 

Y/N nodded, appreciating his concern. ''You guys too.'' 

Minttu stepped forward, also offering the woman a hug. ''We wish you the best next season. We'll continue to root for you.'' She smiled, stating her support for the female driver. 

''Thank you so much, and have a nice Christmas together.'' Y/N said to her, appreciating that their family would continue rooting for her. She also high-fived a shy looking Robin who clinged to his mother. 

''We'll call, okay?'' Kimi mimicked a phone with his hand, looking at her. She nodded her head, delighted the man wanted to continue having contact with her. 

''We will.'' 

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #kimi raikkonen x reader #f1 female driver #f1 x female driver #female f1 driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you