#(YES YOU TOO AMELIA)

[yamikakyuu]

Horror audio drama/podcast fans

[ameliapodcast]

Listen, we know the new Hozier-Album is insanely good, WE KNOW, he's been a regular of ours for the last few centuries.

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

[upsidedowngrass]

amelia suffers from "fandom designated Nice Girl"

[wolfieamelia]

oh to be a trans girl having a notion page about planting and growing food because all the money goes to E and Caffeine 💸💸💸💸

[i-yell-about-cartoons]

Listen I love toh as much as the next guy I WAS OBSESSED with that shit while it was airing. But. Slams. My. Fists. INFINITY TRAIN NEVER GOT AN ENDING AT ALL. TOH DID. PLEASE

[gguk-n]

Daddy Dearest (Oscar Piastri Dad fic)

Summary- Oscar is a girl dad.

There weren't many people who had Oscar wrapped around their little finger, except Amelia Piastri. Almost 2 years old and she could make Oscar dance like a chicken on the drop of a hat.

Oscar had met Amelia's mother and the love of his life, Y/N when they were in high-school. They started dating soon after. The year Oscar was a reserve driver for Alpine; he might not have been busy racing but he was busy with his girlfriend. The whole Alpine-Mclaren fiasco brought us baby Mia. It was a usual Thursday, Y/N had been stressing out about missing her period for the second time this month when she had regular periods since she could remember. A thought passed through her; it had been floating around in her head since last month. What if she was pregnant? Oscar and her had always been safe; but not a single contraceptive was a hundred percent perfect. So, without informing Oscar, she went to the store and bought a few tests. When the first one said positive, she did another and then another. By now Oscar had become aware of his missing girlfriend who was coup-ed up in their bathroom for the past half hour. He was knocking on the door; "babe, is everything okay? You've been in there since you returned" But when no reply came; the knocking became more rapid and worried. "Y/N, are you ok? Please answer. You're stressing me out" he begged. Then the door opened slightly. A tear stained Y/N was peaking her head out. Oscar pushed the door open and hugged her. He was scanning the room as his girlfriend's body shook slightly; that's when he saw it; pregnancy tests. He pulled away to look at her; "Have you been busy taking those pregnancy test?" he asked. "How do you know what they are?" she hiccuped. "I've watched TV growing up" he smiled. She nodded and handed the 3 tests to him. They all read pregnant in bold letters. Oscar was over joyed; "Are we gonna be parents?" he shouted. "You're not angry?" she asked. "Why would I be? I get to have kids with the love of my life. Best thing that could ever happen to me" he stated. For the first time since she got the tests, she smiled. "Aren't we too young though?" she asked. "Yes, but I could take on the world with you by my side" he said kissing her. "You'll be the best dad ever" she told him. "You'll be the best mum ever" he said. The pair stayed in each other's embrace for a long time. Oscar will never admit it but he cried and then went on reddit to research what to do as a first time dad.

Amelia was born the next year when Oscar was busy racing. He wasn't able to be there for the birth of his daughter; he might have called his mother and cried about being a shitty dad from the get-go. But his father later consoled him and told him it would be fine. Oscar flew out the first chance he got to be with his girlfriend who was being taken care of by both their parents. The first time he held Amelia, he had started crying as soon as she opened her big brown eyes and looked at him. She was an exact copy of him when he was a baby, at least that's what his mother said. Y/N had to console him instead of the baby. He was sat there with his arms wrapped around Y/N who held their daughter for a really long time. Y/N had fallen in love with the name Amelia after watching the Princess Diaries growing up and Oscar wasn't about to argue with Y/N about naming their daughter after the Queen of Genovia. That's how she was named "Amelia Opal Piastri"

Oscar kept them hidden from the world after they had mutually decided not to tell anyone except their close friends and family which some how, had now included Lando Norris, much to Oscar's dismay since his daughter from the moment she could speak called Lando her twin; Oscar hated it, he was just dad or daddy when she wanted something but Lando was her best friend and twin. Lando took great joy in having to be able to steal Amelia away. Lando was helping Oscar move since he'd been staying in Monaco longer and moving with a kid wasn't easy. Mia was being very difficult today until she saw her Uncle Lando and jumped out of Oscar's arms running to Lando. "Lan, I mwiss you" she pouted raising her hands as if to signal him to carry her. Lando quickly scooped her in his arms, kissing her cheeks which elicited giggles. She wrapped her arms around Lando's neck and turned to her dad sticking her tongue out making Oscar pout. "Come here, you're my princess" he whined. "NO. I wan Lan" she said and hugged him tighter as Oscar tried to pull her away. "Oscar, behave. We have a lot of work to do. If Lando can watch over her while we unpack, that'll be great." Y/N said kissing her daughter's cheek and giving Lando a hug. Reluctantly Oscar agreed to let Lando play with her while he got the house unpacked.

While the two unpacked, Lando kept their little princess entertained. "Lan, do you vroom vroom fast?" she asked playing with the race cars she had. "Yeah" he nodded. "my daddy, vroom vroom" she paused for a moment to think, "fast more, win, wohooo" she said jumping up when the Oscar car she was playing with won and Lando's car came in second. Obviously, Mia was growing up watching racing; her dad was a F1 racer. Lando laughed when she jumped up; "Uncle Lando won many races too" he said. "My daddy win 2 races" she said looking at her fingers, counting them and holding up 2. She looked proud of herself for holding the correct number of fingers, Lando was proud too.

All that playing had tired her out; she was now laying on Lando's chest mumbling gibberish about how Leo could fly while he patted her to sleep. Oscar came back to find his daughter peacefully asleep. "I hate that she likes you more than me" Oscar stated watching the two. "Who said that?" Lando tried to control his laugh. "You can see right now" Oscar pointed out. "Mate, she loves you so much. All we talked about was how her daddy is so fast and has won 2 races." he added. Oscar smiled, "I'll put her in her room, we just got done with that" he said slowly taking her to her bed.

The house would take a few more months before they would be able to be done completely. Mia was already enjoying her play dates with Leo and Roscoe. Alex and Leo would be over a few times a week since Mia would pester Alex to come over with Leo. Leo loved Mia so much, the two would always be seen rolling around on the floor or running after each other. They never seem to tire out until they did and then they would be cuddling each other in their sleep on the couch. Roscoe was an older dog and he had seen quite a few children, he kept Mia more tame if that was possible. He would look out for her and protect her from harms way. He was very protective of her; it was very adorable to watch.

During the break, Oscar was spending the 3 weeks with his family. Y/N had been taking the bulk of parenting their 2 year old which did make Oscar feel guilty and he would try to give her as much me time when he was around as possible. "It's time for a daddy-daughter date" Oscar cooed at Mia as he carried her to get dressed. "What does my princess wanna eat today?" he asked plopping her on the changing table. "I want dino and fries and juice and white icey and tuddles" she cheered. She couldn't say Vanilla ice cream yet so it was white icey and cuddles were tuddles which Oscar hoped she wouldn't out grow. Oscar changed her into a pink tutu on her request. The two of them sat on the sofa watching Bluey with their dino nuggets, fries and a juice. Once she was done eating, half the fries were in Oscar's mouth but who was counting; he got out the ice cream and this was the one food item she would not share with anyone. The latest episode they were watching finished up and Mia was cuddling her dad. Oscar rubbed circles on her back to help her fall asleep; "I love you my angel" Oscar whispered kissing her head. "I wuv you my daddy" she whispered kissing his chest. She had seen her mum do this a few times and Oscar's heart swelled up watching her imitate her mum.

Oscar and Y/N were busy setting up another room in their house when Mia found Oscar's phone unlocked. No one knew how she got onto Instagram but she did and ended up taking a picture of her face and posting it as a story. Within minutes Oscar and Y/N's phones were blowing up. Y/N saw messages from her friends and family to check Oscar's story; Oscar had already seen what his daughter did. The next race was gonna be so fun trying to explain who that was.

The driver's group chat was going crazy, they couldn't stop laughing about how Mia posted herself. The other drivers joked that she was sick of not being able to attend races so she decided to hard launch herself. McLaren's PR team was making a story up which Oscar shut down quickly. He had been dating Y/N for a long time and had a family with her, he wasn't about spin some shitty tale about it being someone else's daughter. This was the final push that Oscar needed to strike the iron when it was hot. Oscar would propose now; the ring he had bought was burning a hole in his pants for a while now.

oscarpiastri

Liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,367,458 others tagged y/n.y/l/n

oscarpiastri To a lifetime of forever with the loves of my life💍🧑‍🧑‍🧒

landonorris Mia is so cute in all the pictures, I'm stealing her👀👀 oscarpiastri landonorris NO YOU CAN'T HAVE HER😤😤 alexandrasaintmleux next Leo-Mia playdate when??🥹❤️ y/n.y/l/n alexandrasaintmleux Mia says tomorrow❤️❤️ logansargeant my fav Piastri is growing up so fast😭 Liked by the author mclaren such a beautiful family🧡 y/n.y/l/n mclaren I remember you trying to break it up 😐😐 mclaren y/n.y/l/n I was following orders, I didn't wanna do it🥲🥲 user1 too many things, I can't process it🤯 user2 he has a girlfriend, a daughter and got engaged all in one post🤯😭 user3🤯🤯🤯🤯 user4 Congratulations Oscar!!🧡🧡🧡 lewishamilton Congratulations you two!! ❤️❤️Mia said Roscoe is the ring bearer Liked by y/n.y/l/n charles_leclerc my beautiful granddaughter😭 user5 the Leclerc family is expanding at an alarming rate😱😱 user6 user5 does that make Leo her uncle??🤔 user7 What's her name?? user8 Mia is the cutest name for the cutest baby😍😍 user9 can't wait to watch her become a formula one driver😪 user10 only known her 2 days but if anything happens to her, I’ll kill everyone and then myself user11 the last picture🤤🤤 we might be getting baby no. 2🤭🤣

[callmemickey]

Cumming Home for Christmas

synopsis: Simon surprised you by being home 3 weeks early, which means you get to take him to your family’s Christmas get together! Unfortunately, Simon hasn’t had his fill of you… How thin do you think the walls are in the bathroom?

content: Afab, porn w a plot, smut (dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, quickie, slightly public? maybe other stuff idk) fluff fluff fluff kind of angst if you squint real hard he just loves you sm my sweet Angel babey reader muah love u 2

word count: 3.7k

notes: Don’t ask me why I chose Christmas this is purely self-indulgent. Also, he’s a brunette going off of the comics, so I’m running with that thx!

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Warm Christmas lights, sparkling ciders and the expensive alcohol, the soft hum of cozy Christmas jazz on the speakers, family buzzing and soaking in each other’s presence - there was nothing else you could ask for. In this massive sea of black and red formal attire, your family, both close and extended, came together for an amazing holiday party at your grandparents’ estate.

Simon, who surprised you by coming home over three weeks early, has accompanied you as your plus one to the family’s holiday party. It made the event even better. Your family adored Simon to bits and pieces, constantly embarrassing you in front of him, begging to know when he wanted to start a family with you, your aunts drinking too much and asking him to take off his coat and flex. He dealt with the melting pot of clashing personalities better than you had ever imagined.

Simon expertly handled the socializing carefully and precisely. He preferred to be an observer in these bigger settings rather than to speak. He gave simple answers that were concise one liners, saving his social battery. So, to make up for it, he would escape to assist anybody needing aid. When dinner was ready, he assisted in the kitchen, making sure that everybody had their meals first, and was later caught cleaning the kitchen (much to your displeasure). He also helped light your grandfather’s cigar outside. The Parkinson’s has been making it difficult for him to light them on his own, and Simon even listened to an old war story.

It was unbelievable how much you loved this man.

Now, nieces and nephews weaved between adults and furniture, the fireplace burned hot and strong, people laughed and yelled happily over the gentle music, and the scent of baking pies and pastries wafted and filled the air. Your lovely military fiancé, overworked and tired on his break, did so well to deal with this. Of course, Simon, being an incredibly selfless person willing to compromise in any situation or scenario just to make you happy, said that it was alright when you invited him. “Nothing would make me happier,” he had said in a low, roughened voice - which was right before he buried his face between your legs.

But I digress.

Simon stood next to you as your uncle told you both in absolute monotony about his recent trip to Italy, “So beautiful. Your aunt Amelia and I want to get a vacation home there.” He finished, and you nodded awkwardly. “Sounds like you and aunt Millie had a great time, uncle Mike.” Your tone was dry while Simon nodded and hummed in response. He just wasn’t… very present.

Simon had his attention and focus set on pretty high at the beginning of the night, but he was able to relax a little bit since then, to let himself just be in the moment - or so the psychiatrist says he should. He was actively paying attention to the conversation, yes that is true, but the hand holding your waist began to… wander, a little bit. Slowly at first, but much faster now. With a hand that started on your shoulder in the beginning of the night, bit by bit lowered down your back, smoothing above the top of your ass and to your hip. Fingers pressing deep into the black velvet of your dress, Simon tried to keep you caged next to him. That didn’t matter though, because you would have done little to resist him.

You two shared a quick glance. His dark brown eyes were slightly glossed, his gaze a salaciousness that he always brings home. Ooh, it made you want to rub your thighs together just to feel something. You nodded again to your uncle Mike when he brought up something else that was equally boring. Simon, having a better idea and use for his time, suddenly seemed to have remembered something, “Apologies, Mike, but Y/N and I have to make an important phone call.” You looked up at him.

That brief look in his eye was so, so hungry. The greed brewed like a dark storm. You felt a hot chill race down your spine, your core began to burn. You acted as if you remembered the same ‘something’ as well. “Oh my god, I can’t believe we almost forgot!” You gasped in a low voice. His fingers squeezed your hip, making your chest slowly fall into shallow breaths as you could imagine him purring in your ear.

Good girl.

You two waved him off as you turned to leave the kitchen. Simon took the wine glass from your hand and placed it on the countertops as you two walked through the doorway. His hand pressed on your lower back, guiding you into the dark hallway. The armoire in the middle lit with warm candles that smelled of cinnamon and spiced apples, casting shadows that bounced and flickered across the walls. It helped light your way to the restroom, but it also kept you two enveloped in shadows to help hide whatever sins you were going to commit. Simon, without a word, opened the bathroom, and with nobody inside, he sweeped you in, locking the door behind you two.

The bathroom had warm string lights strung across the crown molding, and a window with fake candles sat high on the wall. The room was a little loud with the echoes, so you smacked the switch on the wall to turn the fan on, hoping to mask whatever sounds were going to flood the room.

Not even a second, in such a calculated move, Simon plucked his mask off and had your lips locked with his as he hoisted you onto the sink counter. All you could do in that flurry of movement was gasp, his hands gingerly holding your jaw as his mouth worked against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist, sighing as you felt a hardened tent in his trousers press eagerly against your clothed cunt.

You ran your hands through his dark brown hair, a moan running from you into him as his hands gave your ass a harsh squeeze. He ground his hips into you, pulling a whimper from you as he pressed roughly against your thrumming clit. Simon broke from your mouth, kissing your neck as his fingers pushed up into your dress, grabbing your panties.

“Quiet - or they’ll hear us,” he whispered against your flesh. You panted with a nod as he slipped your panties off, tossing them onto the floor along with his jacket. Simon quickly unbuttoned his white sleeves, rolling them up to reveal his heavily veined forearms, his one arm tattooed with black. He expertly undid his belt, pulling his pants and underwear down slightly, his hardened cock springing free.

He kept kissing your neck, lightly sucking to tease but not enough to hickey or bruise. His fingers dipped into your embarrassingly wet sex, rubbing at your clit and folds before pushing two fingers into you. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, so wet already.” His voice was a growl against your neck, slowly pumping them, his fingers rubbing up against that spongy spot inside.

It caused you to mewl. Simon’s one hand jumped to cup your mouth shut, making you gasp. The movement threw you off balance, your upper back falling back to press against the mirror while grabbing onto his wrist for support. He continued to finger you and hold your mouth closed, your whimpers mumbled in his hand.

Just as quick as you just started grinding your hips, he pulled his fingers away. A disappointed moan left broken up between your mouth and his palm. Simon grabbed his cock and started to pump himself, lubricating it with your juices before rubbing against your clit. He moved his hand from your mouth down to your hip.

You whimpered, “Oh my god, Simon.” Your hips wriggled and bucked against the dizzying sensation. He chuckled, slowly pressing his cock into your hot, wet cunt. The familiar stretch made you hum in need. “You’re gonna tease me? On Christmas?” You whined, your legs once again wrapped around his hips, urging him to sink into you.

“Ahh, have you been a good girl, though?” He asked in a low rumble, his other hand grabbing the other hip, his prepared stance making your hole clench around his member. He had a half-lidded stare, swirling with a level of lust you couldn’t really see the end of - bottomless and ravenous. Simon towered over you.

“I’m always a good girl for you, Simon,” You cooed.

He slowly pushed in, making you inhale sharply as you stretched so wide to allow him to fit. You held your breath as he pushed his cock through. “I’m just teasing, love - I know you’ll always be my good girl,” he said with warmth in his voice.

His tip kissed your cervix as he nestled fully, deeply, completely. Your head rolled back on the mirror as a satisfied sigh escaped you, but Simon’s grip on your hips tightened intensely. You gasped as he began a fast pace, his hips slapping loudly against your thighs and echoing in the bathroom. It was almost too much. It gave you little time to prepare for his entering, but you settled nicely around him after a few more thrusts.

Simon wasn’t normally this fast. He loved to hit with hard strokes, but nothing typically of this pace. Fortunately, you weren’t one to complain. It was so goddamn good. You hate it when your fiancé is away, not knowing where he was for most of the time, but when he’s gone for so long and comes back? Fuck. It’s criminal how good the sex is. His impatience made it impeccable.

But you were desperate. You wanted to cry and moan and yell, to beg and pray for him to bring you to a higher plane of pleasure. Oh, God, you would do anything for it, anything for him. You grasped at his forearms, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving stinging crescent moon shaped imprints in their path. He groaned lightly at your sharp grip, a soft chuckle coming from him. “Oh, you like this?” He asked, and you nodded, biting your lower lip to keep anything but your gasps, pants, and squeaks from escaping.

“Touch yourself,” his voice wasn’t harsh, but it was a demand.

With one hand still on Simon’s arm, the other moved to your clit, and you began to rub in quick circles. Simon watched your face twist and change: your mouth hanging open as you panted, but occasionally closed to bite your lip so to stop yourself from moaning; eyes half-lidded, barely open, glazed, and painfully horny; back bowing and arching, your toes curling, body just at a loss at what it can handle. This was Simon’s favorite view in the world. It’s what he came home for. It’s what he fought for.

A moan tumbled from your mouth as you held on for dear life. “S-Simon!” You whined his name, the heat inside of you burning red hot, uncontrolled, and rampant.

“S’alright love,” his voice was soft, “you gonna cum?”

You nodded quickly, the fingers on your clit stuttering as you found your release fast approaching, his almost brutal pace not slowing in the slightest. “I’m gonna c- ah- cum, Simon!” You struggled not to say too loud. “Don't stop!”

“Come on, Y/N,” he ushered, “cum for me.” Simon knew how to drive you over the edge. His hand reached out, firmly but gently cupping over your mouth to keep your head in place - and to push back your lascivious sounds.

A moan found itself trapped, lodged in your throat as you fought with your whole might not to yell and cry out. Your orgasm ripped through and crashed over you like a tsunami. He had unraveled you.

Your back arched, and you couldn’t roll your head back. Your lashes flickered as you struggled to keep your eyes from crossing or rolling back to look at Simon while you came. The fingers you had on your clit stopped moving as you were paralyzed, but the grip you had on his forearm stayed strong, “Ahhh, fuckin’ look at you. That’s a good girl, cummin’ nice and pretty on my cock. You like that, yeah?” He groaned, hips putting in more power to drill into your tightened pussy, tears pricking at your eyes as the orgasm left your legs shaking around him.

Simon retracted his hand, grabbing back at your hip. You let out a quick, small cry as your free hand held back onto his forearm. “Y’alright, love?” He grunted, and you nodded furiously before he could stop, but he started slowing down. You didn’t want him too. “Need- I need you,” you gasped, “don’t stop, Simon.” You whimpered.

Oh, to be buried deep inside your pussy was all he could have ever hoped for upon coming home. Y/N, ever so kind and giving. Simon tightened his hands around your hips again and began the brutal pace as you struggled to keep silent.

That’s when you felt your body heating up again. Your sex thrummed with the building pleasure and excitement once more, causing you to moan while you held onto his wrists. A light sheen of sweat sat on your skin, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your flesh.

Simon moaned softly with a smirk, your fucked out expression and legs lazily clinging onto his hips was such an amazing sight. The snapping of him against you had beat your pussy red, leaving it angrily aroused. “You gonna cum again? Yeah? Ahhh, thas my needy girl.” Desperate, tiny grunts popped out of you with each thrust, your pussy swallowing Simon deeply.

“Si-Simon! Gonna- c-cum!” You gasped out with each pump. 

Your orgasm hit like a rapid flash of heat and pleasure. A squeal escaped you, and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids fluttered as your eyes rolled back, legs around Simon’s waist tightened, your whole body trembled from his unrelenting pace. Your face was flushed red, eyes completely glazed and lost as your hair stuck to your face.

“Ah, f-fuck, so fuckin’ tight. So good - my girl is so good, God, cummin’ on my cock, just like that.” He growled, his hips slowly beginning to fall off rhythm while his orgasm began to creep up on him.

You moaned and begged, “Ah, Simon, nngh, I-I can’t- please cum!”

“Don’t you worry, g-gonna cum inside this pretty pussy,” Simon groaned, “gonna fill you up, yeah?”

You nodded furiously as your body screamed in overstimulation. “Please, I- ah! Too much, ah, you’re too much, Simon!” You cried out, your ever tightening cunt being stretched open, begging for his release.

“Y/N- Y/N, fuck!” He hissed as his hips slammed against you, tightly holding his cock against your cervix as if he was threatened to be ripped away. He groaned, emptying himself into you completely, his cock jerking and flexing harshly, making the veins on his shaft more pronounced. You whimpered, your cunt tensing around him as you felt hot waves shooting inside of you. He stayed for a moment while panting, his thighs shaking slightly, relishing in the feeling as oxytocin and dopamine flooded his brain. Simon pulled out, a throaty groan leaving you at the sudden emptiness, your legs letting go of him.

“Well… let’s hope nobody heard that.” Simon said in a low voice, pulling up his underwear and pants, buckling his belt and grabbing your panties for you. You slid off of the sink and inhaled sharply as your knees buckled. He immediately latched onto your arms, making sure you wouldn’t fall. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, y’alright?” He asked, slowly loosening his grip to make sure you were okay on your own.

“My legs, Simon. Jesus Christian Christ - I can’t stand.” You huffed, leaning against the sink, glowering at him as you took your panties from his hand, embarrassed.

He unrolled his sleeves, buttoning them. “You’re really gonna talk like that? On Jesus’ birthday?” He looked at you as he grabbed his jacket, shaking his head. “What would your nan say, hmm?” He feigned sincerity, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he swung the jacket on.

“Well, the jokes on you because Christmas isn’t even Jesus’ birthday.” You snapped back at him, slowly sliding your underwear on as your knees shook like a newborn giraffe. He tutted in disapproval as he moved up to you.

Simon’s body was close, his body radiating warmth. He wasn’t one for a lot of physical affection, which was alright, so when he took the time to be attentive to you… you always melted against him immediately. His finger lightly hooked under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. Your body subconsciously gravitated towards him, like a moth seeing the moon for the very first time.

He leaned down, lips brushing so close to yours, your eyes still connected . “Fuck what day it really is - I just know I’m home.” Simon pushed in for a deep kiss, brimming with emotions, the kinds he couldn’t really say. As he pulled away, he couldn’t help but admire you.

The golden candlelight fluttered across his face. His tired but warm eyes studied you, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing and mapping every freckle, wrinkle, and spot, because he’s scared that the moment he looks away, he’ll forget. He took in your flushed, messy appearance as if God himself sent down a heavenly body to give him a reason not just to fight, but to live; an angel on its mission as a guide, and he would willingly martyr himself on the ground at your feet if it meant he could just hear you say his name. Once.

Simon wanted to say these things, but he wouldn’t. He might never. But that’s alright, too. Not everyone is meant to love so boldly.

You cocked an eyebrow as he stared at you so intensely. “You okay there, Lieutenant?” You asked, a small smile on your lips.

He realized that, yes, it was alright that he didn’t say those things. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t have to - you just knew. Everyday he thought about how he didn’t deserve you. You, ever so loyal and strong. You’ve given him a purpose, motive, after all of these years - alone.

He often wondered what he had done to deserve having someone like you in his life. Someone who loved and cultivated, with hands of soft mercy, so tender and kind. A voice of validation, honesty, reason, all stemming from your unconditional love. If he had met you years ago, before the therapy and psychiatry helped, he would’ve let your fingers prick and bleed as you grasped at his thorns while he plucked you of your petals, leaving you broken and bare.

He didn’t deserve you.

Simon returned the smile, his voice soft, “Never better.” His hands moved to hold your waist as you two shared a few more kisses. “You know I like it when you call me that,” he hummed in between the lip locking.

You moaned gently and teasingly bit his bottom lip, your hands pressing against and gliding up his shirt. You kissed his jawline and sighed, “Is that so, Lieutenant Riley?”

He squeezed your waist in a warning. “Careful, love, we don’t have time for round two. Save it for tonight.” Your pussy purred just as Simon pulled away, picking up the mask from the sink and putting it back on in an attempt to obscure his identity.

You hummed, legs still a little shaken. “Well, I might need a minute to get my feet under me. You… okay with managing my family alone?” You asked hesitantly, eyes slightly squinting as if to flinch. He studied you for a moment, eyes glancing you up and down. It made you a little self-conscious, causing you to shift.

“Of course, Y/N,” his tone was reassuring, and subtly professional, “you sure you want me to leave you? Just say the word, love.”

Your body relaxed a little, and you nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need a minute.”

Simon faltered, if for a moment, before he gave you a soft squeeze on the arm, and left. You sighed, turning to lean onto the counter and fix your hair in the mirror. Your legs really were shaking, much to your surprise. Yes, yes, Simon makes you shake plenty, but he doesn’t always fuck that hard, if rarely. You couldn’t be more embarrassed. Sending your fiancé, who is not the biggest people-person, back to the wolves, but it’d be more embarrassing if you walked out there in your current state.

You fixed your dress and made sure you were able to stand properly again after a few minutes. Making sure your hair, makeup, and dress were all still together, you left the bathroom with caution. You quietly snuck down the hallway, back against the wall. You got to the doorway and peeked around the corner to peer into the party.

You don’t know how long you were in the bathroom for as the crowd surprisingly died down. Family members left for home, hotels, or whatever bedrooms your grandparents had available, so the end-of-the-night afterparty was intimate and calm. You inched into the room, eyes falling on Simon, who was outside with your grandfather, lighter in his hand.

You smiled gingerly as your mother called you over. “Sweetie, everybody loves Simon. I know he isn’t much of a talker, or a hugger, but he made a great impression.” Her voice was filled with warmth and happiness, and she spoke in a hushed tone. “He also listens to your grandfather’s stories, bless his heart.” She cooed. Your mother continued to speak, but her voice drowned out as you watched your future husband.

Simon stood at ease, with his hands held together and relaxed behind him as your grandfather engaged him in a story, puffing his cigar shakily as his hands trembled while he was animated. It was so calm and serene, watching him nod, the ghost of his jawline moving beneath the mask as he spoke. Your heart fluttered as Simon’s eyes flicked over and locked onto you, giving a little wink before turning his attention back to the present conversation.

Okay, you’re definitely sitting on his face tonight.

[piastappies]

📸 END UP HERE

synopsis. when a guy keeps harassing his best mate’s cousin, there’s not a single thought on his mind that would make theo feel bad about wanting to beat the shit out of him.

theo nott x lestrange!reader. PLEASE. request more things for theo or mattheo. i’m literally in need.

theo couldn’t remember the exact moment, when his mind filled the urge to hit cormac mclaggen as hard as possible. on second thought, he definitely could.

theo’s been watching you ever since the party started. you were standing in the corner of the room, trying to get as little attention as possible — you wouldn’t even been there if amelia didn’t beg you to be her emotional support, so considering you were the best roommate (and friend) she could imagine, you said yes. maybe it was just the start of mistakes you were supposed to make that night, or so you thought.

you had a tight, dark red dress on you that hugged all your curves in the places it should. your make up just made you stand out from all the girls there, that’s what theo thought when he saw you. of course, you didn’t want to be there, but you couldn’t just pass on an occasion to dress up a bit, since you were going anyway. maybe your clothing choice was another of those mistakes.

nott’s attention was fully on you — a girl tried to hit him up? too bad, because she wasn’t even half as pretty as you were, and he knew you didn’t even try. it became obvious to all his friends that you were… quite a distraction. he would engage in a conversation, trying hard to have his focus on his friends, but then you would do something, and he felt obligated to look at you, but you were clearly oblivious to his gaze averting and coming back every once in a while.

“can you stop eye-fucking my cousin?” draco groaned, leaning on the wall behind them, bringing a cup to his lips, taking a small sip of alcohol. “it’s disgusting.” he added.

draco malfoy was the only reason that kept theodore from getting his hands on you, at least that’s what he would always tell people he bluntly ignored, when you walked into the room he was in. just because draco treated you like a sister, people thought nott would get a hold of his hormones.

but how could he, when you always looked so gorgeous?

“i’m not eye-fucking her, i’m a cultured man.” he said, getting lots of mocking laughs from mattheo and lorenzo (“you? a cultured man? never heard that much bullshit in my life.”). “i’m admir— ouch, c’mon, malfoy.” his fingers massaged the place that the blonde boy punched.

it all happened later that night, when nott was already a little lightheaded from a blunt he was smoking with mattheo. even if he didn’t want to concentrate on you, it was pointless, so he just watched you, shamelessly, being teased for it by his friend at the same time.

he noticed that cormac fucking mclaggen cornered you, and you had no possible chance to run away from him, your eyes scanning the room, looking for help until your gaze landed on theodore’s face, and he knew immediately. you watched him get up from the couchy, mumbling something to riddle before he made his way towards the corner you stood in.

he didn’t even say a thing, the discomfort in your eyes was enough to assume everything. he tapped the gryffindor’s shoulder, quickly throwing his fist forward, and you could’ve swore to god that you had heard bones crushing. theo just grinned mischievously as cormac looked at him a confussed expression, brushing his lip with his thumb.

but nott didn’t stop himself there, starting a fight. while mclaggen’s friends tried to pull the poor gryffindor away from theo, mattheo and enzo just stood behind him, with wide, prideful grins on their faces, shouting once in a while to encourage theo to “crush his skull”. if it wasn’t for blaise, who finally appeared (with amelia right beside him), the fight would go for probably even longer until one of the teachers didn’t interfere.

“stay the fuck away from her, mclaggen.” dark-haired spat at his opponent, the adrenaline running through his veins, so the bruises didn’t hurt at all. not until he was sat by the edge of the bathtub by you, when he realized that his face was throbbing with pain.

“theo.” you whispered, stading right between his legs, trying so hard to focus on patching him up more than the burning sensation of his hand on her hip. hearing the way you said his name almost made him groan — you were so perfect in his eyes that if he manned up, his hands would be everywhere, not just your hip. “could you please lift your head for me?”

there was something so incredibly intimate about that moment. he just fought for you, and instead of getting mad, you were right next to him, cleaning his face and hands off the blood, speaking so softly and touching him with such a gentle manner that theodore thought he died and woke up in heaven.

“i thought you said you wouldn’t be fighting random guys anymore.” you began, brushing his hair back, so you could press the wet towel to his forehead. “was he making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his tone a little raspy.

“well, yeah but–”

“then it wasn’t random.” theo shrugged, and if you two were in different circumstances now, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crashing your lips into his. “he should’ve known that you’re my girl.” he mumbled as his hand slipped down on your thigh, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“you looked so good tonight.” he muttered after a minute of silence as you kept trying to concentrate on helping him first. a sigh left his lips as he pulled you a little closer. “i want to rip that dress off you, jesus. what are you doing to me?”

it took him one more swift pull to get you to straddle him. his fingers traced soft circles on your outer thighs as you were silently finishing up your job. your entire body was burning. unfortunately, your face was revealing the effect he had on you, and you hated it, because theo always made it his mission to make you blush as hard as possible.

the thing between you two was… indescribable. you weren’t a couple, but you acted like one, you weren’t friends with benefits, but you weren’t just friends. there were feelings involved and neither of you denied. there were mutual attraction, desire, urgency and neither of you could see themselves with someone else. if soulmates existed, then theodore faustus nott was yours and no one else’s.

“alright.” now, it’s your turn to sigh. you put the towel aside, cupping his cheeks, scanning his face for more bruises to patch up. when you were sure that you treated every single one, you let yourself relax, getting a soft chuckle from theodore. “you worried me, theo.”

he mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, since he found his face nuzzling in your neck, leaving small kisses in the spots that he knew would make you shiver. he inhaled the sweet scent of your shampoo and perfume. oh, and did it drive him crazy.

he picked you up, your legs wrapped around his hips as he walked the two of you to his bed, merlin help how weak he felt, but carrying you around was something he did every single time you were at his dorm. theo put you down, letting you get comfortable in his sheets (he bought them, just because you said it looked pretty — so now he had floral themed sheets). on the other hand, he was searching for some clothes you always wear, so you wouldn’t suffer in a tight dress.

maybe he never directly said he loved you, but his actions and behaviour towards you was enough to tell you he did.

you’ve changed into clothes he gave you, allowing your… situationship to help you unzip your bra, and you fell down on his bed. it took you a brief moment to realise that you were still in your goddamn makeup. a long sigh escaped from between your lips. theo’s face lit up with confusion, although he understood why you were lazily getting up from his bed.

“you don’t have to go back.” he smirked, looking you up and down, admiring how gorgeous you looked in his shirt, pictures of him ripping it off you started playing in his head. god, the things he’d like to do to you right now. “i hated how you complained about your makeup stuff. bottom drawer is all yours. everything you need.”

and to be honest, you almost cried upon seeing what he prepared for you. any possible kinds of makeup remover (creams, lotions, gels), tissues, pads and tampons, cotton balls, all those products that he noticed you used for your hair and skin-care essentials, he even stocked your favourite shampoo that you told him wasn’t produced anymore. there were even the same exact products you used to put on your makeup, perfect matched foundation shade, all kinds of eyeshadow palettes you liked, lipsticks, chapsticks, lipglosses, even the glitter and gems you used for yule ball once.

“theodore faustus nott, you are so incredibly pussy whipped, i’m shocked it’s possible.” your laughs filled his chamber, when you got back from the bathroom. “at the same time, it’s so attractive that you bought all of that for me.”

“shut up, lestrange.” he rolled his eyes, his hand wrapping around your leg, pulling you onto him. “i would kill for you if you asked.” he mumbled against your skin, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline down to collarbone.

[hubbvrd]

first night at home | JB9

summary — It's the first night at home with your newborn daughter. When you wake up in the middle of the night and Joe is no longer lying next to you in bed, you find Joe and your newborn daughter in their baby room and what you see there melts your heart

pairing — joe burrow x reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your eyes filled with tears again as you followed Joe carrying the baby carrier with your newborn daughter into your home for the first time.

Two days ago, Amelia Grace Burrow had seen the light of day, making you and Joe the happiest of people and your family complete for the time being.

Amelia was almost a one-to-one copy of your boyfriend, she had even inherited his tangled, almost curly hair, which was clearly visible from birth as she had been born with an incredible amount of hair.

The living-dining room was adorned with colorful decorations. There were countless helium balloons in the shape of a baby bottle, a teddy bear, a princess and Amelia's name.

There was also a garland with 'Welcome home, baby & mommy' written on it. The dining table was heaped with presents and food so that you could only just make out the wooden top of the table.

"Wow," you marveled as you blinked hard at the tears that were already filling your eyes and making their way down your cheeks.

You had thought that your hormones would settle down quickly after the birth, as you had already been quite waterlogged during the pregnancy - but no way. Your hormones had been going crazy almost non-stop since the birth of your little girl, so you had already used up countless tissues and there seemed to be no end in sight.

"Did you do all that?" you looked over at Joe, who carefully placed the baby carrier on the couch and squatted down in front of it.

Amelia had slept all the way from the hospital to your home, which you were quite grateful for - because you had been terrified of the first car journey.

It probably hadn't been the best idea to read the experiences of other mothers on various websites, as most of them had described the first car journey with a newborn as the 'horror ride'.

But Amelia seemed to have been a calm and contented baby not only in the hospital, but also on the car journey and even now, as she continued to slumber soundly in her seat.

"The decoration? Yes. The gifts and food are from a few neighbors, but most of the things are from my teammates - most of them really went overboard with the gifts. I'm sure one or two of them will spoil Amelia as she gets older," he laughed, whereupon you joined in with his laughter.

Because you could imagine all too well how much Joe's team colleagues would spoil your daughter.

Ja'Marr, Tee and Sam in particular had adored the little one ever since they had known you were having a daughter.

The three of them had even been on hand to help set up the baby's room and had already bought countless cute outfits for Mini Burrow (including, of course, a Mini Burrow jersey from each of them so that she could - according to the boys - support her favorite uncle).

As you laughed, you began to feel your abdomen tighten slightly in pain. Even though the birth had not brought any complications, you had a painful pulling sensation in your abdomen from time to time, which was normal according to the doctors at the hospital, so you lay down on the soft cushions of the sofa next to the baby seat.

Joe carefully undid the baby seat belt and then took out your daughter, who was quite tiny, and sat down on the sofa next to you with her in his arms.

Amelia's eyes were closed and there was a pacifier in her mouth that was almost bigger than her face.

A Bengals cap sat on her head - how could it be any different, of course, because according to Joe she had to be taken directly to her favorite team.

"She's so tiny," you gushed quietly as a tear began to roll down your cheek.

You still couldn't believe your happiness about your little family, which you had wished for since you were little - it would certainly take some time before it happened.

"And so beautiful, like her mommy," Joe added, causing a soft sob to leave your lips.

"I love you so much," Joe breathed, as seconds later he carefully put his free arm around you so that your head found its place on his shoulder, where you had an even better view of the sweet little creature lying perfectly in Joe's arm, sucking on her pacifier and leaning.

"We love you too. So much," you whispered softly before your eyes drifted shut from sheer exhaustion and you too fell into a peaceful sleep.

—

You were startled out of your sleep by a scream, so that you sat up straight in bed and looked around in the dark bedroom, which was only lit by a faint ray of light from the street lamp.

You could still remember falling asleep next to Joe on the sofa. But you couldn't remember getting into bed on your own, so Joe must have carried you up and put you to bed.

But before you could turn the covers aside and swing your feet on the bed, Joe was already jumping out of bed.

"I'm going, go back to sleep," he breathed softly to you and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before pushing you back onto the mattress and putting the covers back over you.

And the moment your head touched the pillow, you were already asleep again.

It was crazy how little you slept with a newborn and how quickly you fell asleep once you'd taken care of the baby or your partner took over.

But you wouldn't trade anything for the chance to sleep through the night again.

—

The next time you woke up and looked to your left, Joe still wasn't back.

A glance at your cell phone, which was lying next to you on the bedside table, told you that it was only 4:55am.

Carefully, your hand touched the empty side of the bed next to you, which was quite cold, so you knew that Joe must have been with your daughter for some time.

Even though you couldn't hear a sound - not even Amelia's crying - you decided to check and relieve Joe, because maybe Amelia needed her mommy now.

The wooden floor creaked softly under your bare feet as you followed the source of light coming from Amelia's nursery.

The closer you got to the baby's room, which was by far the most loving room and your favorite room in the whole house, you heard Joe's soft voice.

So as not to elicit another creak from the floor, you tiptoed the last few meters over to the bright room with the flowery wallpaper, where you leaned slightly against the door frame and took a look inside the room.

On the cozy armchair in the middle of the baby's room, Joe sat with Amelia in his arms and handed her the bottle, from which Amelia drank greedily.

Joe gently rocked the two of them back and forth while his hand held the bottle and his index finger stroked your daughter's tiny hand.

This sight made your heart warm up and your heart skip a little. It really was a beautiful view that almost brought new tears to your eyes - but only almost.

"You're really hungry, huh?" he asked softly as a smile spread across his lips.

"That's good, you'll be a big and strong girl. But do you know what you already are? My sweet girl. My sweet girl, who I will always protect. Come what may. I will also make sure that no boy will ever break your heart and if he hurts you because of Uncle Ja'Marr, I will make sure that he suffers. But also the whole team will always make sure that you don't get hurt. Because they are family. They are your uncles. You'll never be alone..I promise you that,A."

The quarterback leaned in slightly to kiss your daughter's little forehead, causing Amelia to let out a soft sweet sound.

A wide smile crept onto your lips and you couldn't stand there any longer, just watching the two of them.

You crossed a few steps before you reached Joe and Amelia, who had just finished the last of the bottle and now had a wide grin on her lips, which seemed to grow twice as big when she spotted you.

"You've discovered mommy. She probably couldn't sleep anymore because I wasn't there and you've completely taken over me" Joe grinned as he gently tickled your daughter's tummy and then put her over his shoulder for a burp and patted her gently on the back.

"How long have you been awake?" you asked Joe as you carefully adjusted the burp cloth lying on his shoulder.

"I don't know, half an hour?"

"Why didn't you wake me up? I would have done it already. You got up earlier..."

You were slightly plagued by guilt, because before you went home, you had both agreed that you would take turns whenever Amelia cried or was hungry so that you both got enough sleep.

"Hey, babe..." his voice sounded soft as he reached for your hand and stroked the back of it. "You slept so deeply and I wanted you to get some sleep after the exhausting birth two days ago. I'm fine, really. My tiredness has been blown away. I mean look at her, she's mesmerizing me."

Joe's gushing caused him to start yawning softly and it was only now that you saw clearly how deep the circles under his eyes actually looked.

"Come back to bed. Let's cuddle up in our bed as a family. And when you fall asleep, you'll sleep through the night" you promised your boyfriend and together you made your way back to the bedroom, where the three of you snuggled into bed.

Joe lying on his back, with Amelia curled up on his chest, who already seemed to be in a milk coma, with your head in the crook of his neck.

And it wasn't long before the two of you drifted back to sleep overjoyed and you could hardly wait to start the next day together as a family.

[chrisevansonly]

The Media’s Favourite

charles leclerc x female reader

summary: amelia is the light of charles’s life, and she adores him just as much, it’s a good think the media loves her too…

warnings: very fluffy dad charles, like tooth rotting

a/n: i really needed this after the past few days i’ve been having, so this is self indulgent for sure

Amelia had her head on your shoulder as you weaved your way through the crowds to reach Charles before he was whisked off for media duties. He’d come in second at the grand prix today, and the two of you couldn’t have been any prouder especially after how the season started for him.

“Papa?”

You smiled softly kissing the 4 year olds cheek gently, her eyes looking around for her favourite person

“Almost there petit fleur, we’re almost there..”

The two of you walked down towards the motorhomes and over to ferrari’s hospitality, once the two of you had made it safely, Charles was waiting where he usually was, towards the back offices.

“Bonjour mes bébés!”

At the sound of Charles’s voice Amelia picked her head up and smiled happily

“Papa!!”

“Mon ange!!”

He responded with an enthusiasm to match his little girls, and man did the two of them ever look like twins. Charles took her from you gently and you smiled as she clung to him tightly, the Monégasque kissing her cheek a few times before sending you a smile, a pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You did so well baby, congratulations”

“Thank you amour, I think it was because my girls were here”

He kissed your forehead, wrapping his arm around your waist before walking with the two of you down towards the media pen. It was almost tradition to go anywhere together as a family, especially in the paddock on race weekends.

As the three of you arrived, Charles took you and Amelia behind where you’d be away from the journalists but could still see him, only when he went to pass Amelia back to you, she whined

“No papa, stay with you!”

You frowned knowing how hard it was for her to see him and then need to let him go again

“Bébé, papa will only be a little while”

Amelia shook her head, her bottom lip pouting as she tucked her head into Charles’s neck, soft little whimpers escaping her

“Want to stay, papa want to stay!”

Charles thought about it before nodding

“You want to come with papa and talk about the race?”

Moving her head to look at him Charles could have swore his heart burst at the anxious look in his daughters eyes, not because of the camera, but because she didn’t want to be anywhere but his arms.

“Yes please!”

Looking at you to check if it was okay you nodded and watched them walk out into the media pen, all eyes on the father-daughter duo. Thankfully today, Charles had Lissie interviewing him.

“Well this is a surprise, hello Charles and hello Amelia!”

Amelia waved shyly and Charles laughed, adjusting her on his hip so she could see better.

“I have a buddy for media today it seems”

“You do, quite a cute one too!”

Charles smiled before nudging Amelia

“What do you say bébé?”

The toddler smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder

“Thank you”

Lissie smiled just as brightly, the content too cute to handle as she dove into questions about the race, Amelia listening intently, just happy to be in her father’s arms and close to him.

As the interview began to close Lissie asked Charles if Amelia could answer a question, to which he nodded, the four year old now watching her with interest.

“So Amelia, I was wondering who is the best race car driver?”

Amelia was quiet before gently patting Charles’s chest

“Papa! He is the best! He can go ‘weally fast! He’s my ‘favowite”

For being four years old she’d always been so great with words, even if some were still hard to pronounce she gave it her all.

“You heard it here everyone, Amelia Leclerc’s favourite driver is her dad! Safe to say I think many would agree, Thank you Charles and thank you Amelia!”

Charles thanked Lissie before the pair weaved their way back towards you, your arms open and ready to pull then in for a tight hug.

“I’m so proud of you my superstars!”

Kissing both of them gently you all made your way back to get your things and get ready to leave the track. When the day started you definitely didn’t know it would end this way, seeing your baby girl so animated and happy in front of the cameras for the world to see.

You just knew it wouldn’t be the first or last time Amelia took the Formula One media pen by storm…turns out she was a fan favourite. But even then, she’d always be yours and Charles’s favourite too.

[fangsandfeels]

Quite often, I'm sad that Larian canned the original idea of letting origin characters narrate their story and choices. It gave such a nice flavor to their personal stories and their emotions during every encounter.

For instance, upon encountering a wounded illithid who tried to mind control them:

Astarion already fucking hates this thing - he growls as he describes it, he seethes. And then he almost sobs, when the mindflayer tries to force him to think he deserved to be whipped and flayed for resisting it. And it makes perfect sense for him to react like that -- not only does he hate any intrusion into his mind, but also, the mindflayer found his trigger and made him feel miserable.

Meanwhile, Shadowheart, in the same scene, sounds a lot more collected, and observant, detached even when the mindflayer pushes into her mind. Sharite training pays off - she has probably been prepared for such attacks and is ready to endure what it takes to fulfill her mission. She needs to keep her focus and press on.

Will is straight-up poetic. He doesn't narrate; he tells a story he is immersed in (and wants to get you immersed too). He doesn't hate the dying mindflayer -- he has no reason to, it's dying all the same. He is taken aback by the compulsion attempt, clearly processing the emotions the creature tries to drag him through, but he is still in control, clearly understanding what it's trying to do. And of course, he would be in control - he is an experienced monster hunter, he dealt with all kinds of creatures. He knows a mental attack when he sees one.

Oh, and Gale, Gale just brings that classy "stranded in another world log" vibe. He is one of those sci-fi protagonists who go through the horrors and wonders, but always narrate them in the calmest of voices because they can't afford losing focus and losing their cool. Of course, Gale is also sympathetic, and curious, and melancholic at times, but it's all contained. I don't know if it was intentional, but his lines conveyed the feeling of isolation despite being surrounded by people.

Yes, Amelia Tyler is perfect, but I feel like BG3 origin character playthroughs suffer from the same effect that Divinity: Original Sin 2 origin stories did -- aside from a couple of details, more personalized interactions, and a bit more insights related to personal quests, they blend together with custom character behavior a lot.

Narration by VAs would have added such a nice personal touch to every choice and decision - not to mention compensated for the lack of voiced dialogues.

[genderqueerpond]

We don't talk enough about the fact that Amelia Pond, s5 Amelia Pond, before the timeline is reset, isn't just a normal orphan. Her parents didn't die, didn't abandon her, and didn't send her away. They never existed in the first place.

And if her parents never existed, then Amelia cannot exist. She is a causal impossibility.

"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces." A photograph. A face carved into an apple. Yes. Sure.

A child.

Now that's too big, surely.

But that's what she is. She is exactly the same as these things. A trace. An echo of something that could never be, never was, never could have been.

And the universe should never allow it. A whole person, that's just too much. She could not have continued to exist indefinitely, in normal circumstances, after her parents never existed.

In normal circumstances.

Because the Doctor didn't just save her from things coming out of the crack in her wall. He saved her from going into it. And he didn't just save her from the threat of going into it simply because of its vicinity.

No, by arriving when he did, he interrupted a process that was probably already in motion. And then by arriving again only moments later on a cosmic relative timestream (too quickly for the process to complete) and yet in the local relative timestream, years later --- years of a potential future caught midway through the process of rewriting -- he solidified that existence. Amy is a creature from another timeline, caught in amber. The Doctor prevented her from never existing, but only after she could already never exist.

And so, no one around Amelia thinks about it. Neither does she. There's some kind of consciousness block, because if you thought about it, really thought about it, for two seconds you'd realize she cannot exist. And the human mind can't deal with that. So, to protect itself, everyone's brain simply slides off it before ever noticing. They just assume that her existence makes sense, and don't question it, and don't notice what they don't question, that is staring them in the face.

But of course, to some extent they do notice. They can't think it, but they notice subconsciously that there's something they can't think. They notice there's something wrong with her, something uncanny. And they don't like it, and they alienate her even more because of it.

"Does it ever bother you Pond that your life existence doesn't make any sense?"

[allfearstofallto]

Soo, I just saw your yandere diluc and Amelia, I was wondering if there is any scenario or at least a moment where reader treats Amelia well, I can't stand it anymore that she doesn't feel love from her mom 😭😭, girl's just a cutie pie

TW: angst, afab reader, reader has children, yes this is still a yandere Diluc story <3

Did you know that Amelia has a secret? Something not even her own father knows? Well, she does. And you're the only person who she's told it to.

Amelia is plagued by nightmares. Bad dreams about monsters and ghosts. It's even worse when she wakes up in her bedroom, all alone and in the dark. In the pitch black darkness, all the shadows look like creatures out to get her and the only place safe is beneath her covers. She'll hide there, trembling in fear and covering her ears with her hands, all the creaks and groans of the old manor, sound like walking and talking in the mind of a scared child.

Amelia never tells her father about her bad dreams or fear of the dark. Diluc already has a tendency to be overbearing when it comes to her. His love for her being so strong, a little too strong. She's made a name for herself of being independent, despite him, and would hate for that to all be washed away if she told him she was afraid.

Stormy nights are the worst. The wind howls and the trees tapping against the windows sound like claws trying to get in. When a particularly loud thunder strike booms, she jumps out of her bed and runs. She doesn't know why she runs, but she does, straight towards her father's room. Her pride would have to be put aside for this battle, he was the only one who could protect her.

But, before she could reach his door, she bumps into something at full speed. Falling back on her behind, she whimpers out in pain. She knows the manor like the back of her hand, having lived there since the day she was born. She could navigate the place with her eyes closed, and even better in the dark. Yet she still ran into something. She ran into you.

Gulping a bit in fright and in fear of what you'd say to her, she helped her head down as she stood and dusted off her night gown, "I'm...I'm sorry," she muttered, her eyes welling up with tears as she expected to receive those rude words from you and the look of disdain.

"Where are you running to this late at night?" You questioned. Much to her surprise you didn't sound angry or disgusted by her presence. You sounded worried. Like you truly cared about what she was doing.

Amelia pointed to Diluc's door with her finger, "Daddy's room." She said, wide eyes looking right up at you.

You looked back at the door then down at the girl. She wasn't saying it, but you could see it. The way her eyes were wide with fear and filled with tears, the way her little hands trembled while gripping the hem of her dress. She was scared. Scared of the storm. Just like you were.

"You know he's asleep, right?"

Amelia nodded slowly.

"But I'm awake," you assured her, "Would you like to sit with me?"

Her deep red eyes opened to the side of saucers at your words. Never once was she even allowed to be near you, she even remembered being told that she was bottle fed because of it. Anger should've made her say no, but the excitement of finally spending time with you, her mother, made her not care anymore. She held your hand tight as you guided her down the stairs, like if she didn't, this version of you would disappear and she'd be alone on the dark again.

You led her to the kitchen, were you lit a few candles. And sat Amelia promptly on the counter. She didn't ask what you were doing, afraid that anything she said would cause a switch to flip within you. She was quiet and attentive, like she was always told to be during her lessons. Watching as you poured some milk into a pot on the stove, not saying anything, but still smiling weakly. She'd never seen you smile before. Not around her at least.

"I'm also scared of storms," you finally said and even though you were telling her something bad, she smiled. You and her had something in common. She never thought she'd have anything in common with you, except her face that Diluc complimented her on constantly. Saying that she got all her beauty from her mother.

"And the dark too?" Amelia asked softly. You were the first person she was telling her secret to and her heart was about to pound out of her chest at the thought of rejection from you.

You hummed a bit, pouring two glasses of milk as you thought about it, "I used to be." You handed Amelia one of the glasses, holding the other for yourself, "Sometimes, I still am."

It was like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders at your admission. You were by far the most independent person she knew. Even if she thought you hated her, she saw you as fearless. So to know that you too felt fear, of anything at all, made her less tense around you.

Amelia took a sip of her warm milk and you did the same. It was sweet, like honey, and she downed the glass of a few moments, whipping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. The two of you didn't talk much while you finished yours, but Amelia couldn't help, but to stare. In the candle light, with the crackling of thunder outside, you looked like an entirely different person.

You picked her up when she finished and she rested her head on your shoulder. You flinched a bit, but patted her back regardless. It was the first time you'd held her, or at least, the first time she could remember. She felt safe in your arms, even safer than she did in her father's. It wasn't long before the warm milk and the warmth of your body had its effect on her, and she was snoring peacefully on your shoulder.

Amelia woke up the next morning under her mountains of sheets and stuffies, not remembering how she got back to bed. But remembering the night she had, a part of her thought she'd dreamt it. If she did, it was the best dream she'd ever had on a stormy night. But the slight sweetness on her lips told her it was real.

Amelia had two secrets now, one was that she was scared of the dark and the other, was that she has someone to go to when she was feeling afraid.

[ruewrote]

𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: suggestive, 'unrequited' feelings, no use of y/n GENRE: fake dating au, angst SONG INSPIRATION: see through by amelia moore WORD COUNT: 2k REQUESTED: yes

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

the plan had started off as harmless, a joke even. it was supposed to be easy. fake dating your best friend to ward off your persistent ex and to stop your parents from nagging you both about being single. you and josh had been friends for years, so pretending to be in a relationship shouldn’t have been a big deal. just a little act for a few weeks, then you’d go back to normal. no harm done.

at least, that was the idea.

but the thing about ideas is that they never quite pan out the way you expect.

the first time you felt something shift, you had brushed it off. it all started off small, barely noticeable, in fact. the first time you noticed things were different, you had been sitting next to each other at one of your mutual friends' house parties, your legs casually had been resting over his lap, his hand on your knee. it was typical between you two, just another comfortable display of your friendship. 

but then his thumb started absentmindedly tracing soft circles against your skin. as he laughed at something someone said. the simple, familiar gesture sent a shiver through you, and suddenly, it didn’t feel so casual anymore.

it wasn’t until you caught him glancing at you, really looking at you, in a way you weren’t used to, that your heart stuttered.

it was like something you couldn’t quite identify, but it was enough to make you pull your legs off his lap with a nervous laugh. “i’m gonna get another drink,” you had said, almost tripping over the couch in your haste to put some distance between you.

it happened again later, at a dinner with friends. he had slung his arm around your shoulders like always, pulling you closer, his fingers brushing the side of your neck. but the touch lingered, warmed you in an intimate way that had your stomach fluttering with something that definitely wasn’t friendship.

you laughed it off, telling yourself you were imagining it. that things between you and josh couldn’t be changing. you were friends. you’d always been friends. it wasn’t just that. 

because after that night, it kept happening. 

as the weeks went by, things started to change. josh would hold your hand for longer than necessary, his fingers brushing yours even when no one else was around. the way his eyes would linger on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the small touches that had always been casual between friends now felt more than platonic.

his hand at the small of your back when you walked together, the way he tucked you into his side protectively, or how his fingers would play with the ends of your hair when you sat next to each other. and then there was the way he looked at you.

you’d catch him staring sometimes, his eyes lingering on your face with an intensity that made you squirm. you could feel the weight of his gaze even when you weren’t looking at him.

it was driving you insane. because now it was beginning to be all too real, too confusing. it was supposed to be pretend, but here you were, tangled up in feelings that you weren’t supposed to have. not for josh of all people.

you repeat that to yourself over and over, but every time he smiles at you or pulls you into his arms, the words begin to sound emptier, hollower.

tonight, everything feels different. the tension has reached a breaking point, simmering between you for months, maybe even a year. you're alone in his room after game night. the others left hours ago, now the air is thick with something, something neither of you wants to acknowledge.

josh’s arm is slung over the back of the couch, his fingers grazing your shoulder. the touch is light, almost involuntary, but it sends a shiver through you, your heart pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it.

you shift uncomfortably, trying to shake off the feeling, but the silence is unbearable. you know you need to say something, anything, before the tension between you snaps.

"josh," you say softly, your voice trembling despite your attempt to stay calm.

he glances over at you, his smile tight, forced. "yeah?"

you swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "we need to talk."

his hand drops from the back of the couch, his entire body tensing. he turns to face you fully, and there’s something guarded in his expression now, something bracing. "talk about what?" his voice is casual, but you can hear the edge to it.

"this," you gesture between the two of you, the word sticking in your throat. "us. the fake dating... it’s starting to feel different."

josh stiffens, his eyes narrowing slightly. "different how?"

your breath catches, and you suddenly feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling. but you can’t keep avoiding this. "like... i don’t think we’re pretending anymore," you admit quietly, barely able to look at him. "at least, it doesn’t feel like it to me."

the silence that follows is suffocating. you can feel your heart beating faster, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you wait for him to say something, anything. but instead, he just stares at you, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

finally, he speaks, his voice rough, tight with frustration. "you think i don’t know that?" he says, the words laced with tension. "you think i haven’t felt it, too?"

you blink, startled by the sharpness in his tone. "then why didn’t you say anything?" you ask, your voice wavering.

josh lets out a bitter laugh, pacing in front of you, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "why didn’t i say anything?" he repeats, his voice rising. "because i didn’t know what to say! what was i supposed to do? just... tell you that i’m in love with you and hope that it doesn’t screw everything up?"

his words hit you, knocking the air from your lungs. your heart stutters, disbelief crashing through you. "what?" you breathe, barely able to process what he just said.

josh stops pacing, turning to face you, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes almost breaks you. "yeah," he mutters, his voice low and rough. "i’ve been in love with you for longer than i can remember. but you... you wanted to do this, this whole fake dating thing. you! you wanted it to be a joke, something temporary. so what was i supposed to do? i went along with it, pretending like it didn’t kill me every time i had to act like i didn’t actually care."

the room feels like it’s spinning, your head reeling from the weight of his confession. your throat tightens, panic rising in your chest. "josh, i–" your voice falters, your words getting caught in your throat.

he shakes his head, stepping back from you, the hurt etched deep into his features. "you don’t get it," he says, his voice breaking slightly. "i didn’t say anything because i didn’t want to lose you. i didn’t want to be the one to ruin this, to ruin us."

your hands tremble as you stand up, the desperation clawing at your chest. "you wouldn’t have lost me," you whisper, your heart in your throat. "i’m right here. i’ve always been right here."

his eyes lock onto yours, searching your face for something. hope, maybe. but there’s so much pain there, so much hurt, that you’re not sure if he even believes you.

"then why didn’t you say something?" he asks, his voice raw. "why didn’t you tell me you felt the same way?"

tears well up in your eyes, your vision blurring. "because i was scared," you admit, your voice shaking. "i didn’t want to mess it up. i didn’t want to lose you either."

the words hang between you, heavy and thick with everything left unsaid.

josh steps toward you, closing the distance, his breath shaky as he cups your face in his hands. "i can’t do this anymore," he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. "i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with this just being an act."

your heart lurches in your chest, and you realise, with a terrifying clarity, that you can’t either.

"i don’t want to pretend anymore," you whisper, your voice breaking. "i’ve been pretending for so long, and i can’t do it. i want you. i’ve always wanted you."

josh freezes. for a moment, the world feels like it slows between the beat of your heart and the weight of everything unsaid between you. you can see the conflict flickering in his eyes, the hesitation, the fear, and maybe, just maybe, the exact same longing that had been clawing at your insides for weeks.

then he moves.

his lips crash into yours, like he’s been holding back for too long and can’t stand it anymore. there’s no hesitation now, no carefulness. it’s raw, frantic, messy. his mouth is warm, but his kiss is wild, like he’s afraid this moment might slip through his fingers if he’s not holding onto you tight enough. you gasp against him, surprised by the force of it, but you don’t pull away. no, you lean in, meeting his desperation with your own.

his hands find your waist, gripping you like you might disappear, like he’s been starving for this, almost not remembering how to be gentle. one hand tangles in your hair, pulling you even closer.you let out a small, involuntary moan into the kiss. your own hands are just as frantic, fisting into his shirt, clutching at him like he’s the only thing keeping you standing. 

it’s overwhelming, the heat of it, the intensity. you’ve kissed before. pretended before, but this is different. it’s not just a performance anymore. this is years of friendship, confusion, and implicit feelings all colliding into this single, desperate moment. 

when you finally break apart, both of you are gasping for air, breaths mingling in the small space between you. his hands are still on you, shaking slightly as they cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek like he’s trying to convince himself that this is real. that you’re real. his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with something wild and uncontained. there’s no playfulness in them now, just vulnerability, raw and unguarded.

"i–" his voice is hoarse, his words shaky. he stops, swallowing hard as he searches your face. he looks scared, “i didn’t know how to... how to tell you," he whispers, his voice breaking. "i’ve been trying to pretend it was okay, but it’s not. it’s not okay. i really can’t pretend anymore."

your heart clenches at his words, and you close your eyes. "you don’t have to," you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the emotion behind it is anything but small. "i don’t want to either."

for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your shared breaths, the quiet vulnerability that hangs between you both. and then he laughs, a soft, almost broken sound and it’s like the last wall crumbles. his lips brush against your temple, then your cheek, as his arms wrap around you, holding you so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your own. 

"we don’t have to pretend anymore," he murmurs, his lips moving against your skin like a silent promise. his voice cracks, but there’s relief there, too. "no more pretending."

you nod, a wave of relief crashing over you, your chest loosening in a way it hasn’t in weeks. "no more pretending," you echo, your voice steady this time.

he pulls you in closer, his grip strong but tender now, like he’s afraid to let you go but doesn’t need to cling so desperately anymore. you lean into him, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you can finally breathe. 

because this? this is real. finally, it's real. 

and it’s everything you didn’t know you were waiting for.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

© ruewrote 2024.

[rose24207]

Family Business

Summary: An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff

TW: None

A/N: I have like so many stories in my drafts and just post them because why not? English is not my first language! I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Should I make a series out of this?

Masterlist

The grand villa was alive with laughter and warmth, an unusual sight for a house belonging to one of the most feared mafia families in Europe.

Lando Norris, heir to the Norris empire, sat at the head of the massive dining table, a glass of red wine in hand. The glow of the chandelier above reflected in his sharp eyes, but there was a softness to him tonight.

To his left sat you, his wife, the polar opposite of his ruthless world.

Where he ruled with strategy and precision, you led with compassion and kindness. You had a unique ability to bring light to the dark corners of his life, and tonight was no exception.

You were serving dessert yourself, much to the dismay of the staff.

“Madam, please,” Maria, the head of the kitchen, protested. “This is our job.”

“Oh, nonsense,” you said with a warm smile, placing a plate of chocolate cake in front of one of the guards. “You all work so hard. Let me treat you for once.”

Lando watched you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. The hardened men who feared his orders like gospel melted under your kindness, mumbling grateful thanks as you handed out plates.

Across the table, your children were mid-debate.

“No, no, you don’t get it,” Amelia, your ten-year-old daughter, argued, her small hands slamming the table for emphasis. “Papa’s the coolest. He’s strong, and smart, and everyone listens to him. I’m gonna be just like him!”

Lando smirked at that, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so, Amelia?”

“Yup!” She nodded confidently, her dark curls bouncing. “I’ll run the family business one day. Better than you, even.”

“Ambitious,” Lando said, raising his glass in mock salute. “I like it.”

Your eight-year-old son, Jacob, rolled his eyes. “You’re all so dramatic. Mama’s the best. She’s nice to everyone, and she doesn’t yell like Papa.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “I don’t yell.”

“You yelled at Uncle Carlos last week,” Jacob pointed out.

“That was a strategic discussion,” Lando replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

You laughed, shaking your head as you returned to your seat. “Jacob’s right. You do yell.”

Amelia crossed her arms, glaring at her brother. “You’re too soft, Jacob. How are you supposed to run the business if you can’t even scare anyone?”

“I don’t want to run the business,” Jacob said matter-of-factly, stabbing his fork into his cake. “I’m going to be a veterinarian.”

“A vet?” Amelia wrinkled her nose. “That’s boring.”

“Amelia,” you chided gently. “It’s not boring if it’s what Jacob wants. Besides, being kind is just as important as being strong.”

Amelia huffed, but your words sank in.

Lando observed the exchange quietly, marveling at the balance you brought to their lives.

Later that evening, after the kids had gone to bed, you and Lando sat on the terrace overlooking the gardens. The night air was cool, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds.

“She’s got your fire, that one,” you said, leaning against Lando’s shoulder.

“And he’s got your heart,” Lando replied, lacing his fingers with yours. “We’re raising a mini us, you know.”

You laughed softly. “Is that a good thing?”

Lando kissed the top of your head. “The best thing.”

For a moment, the world outside the villa—his world of deals, betrayals, and shadows—felt far away.

Here, with you, with his children, he was simply Lando. A man who had everything he’d ever wanted, and more than he thought he deserved.

As the staff cleared the dining room below, they whispered among themselves, as they always did.

About how Mr. Norris was terrifying, yes, but also fiercely devoted to his wife.

About how Madam Norris made their lives better with her warmth and generosity.

About how the children were growing into reflections of their parents—Amelia, bold and determined, and Jacob, gentle and kind.

It wasn’t a typical mafia family, no. But it was theirs. And that was more than enough.

Thank you for reading!