#I JUST NEED TO GET THROUGH ALL THESE ASK'S FIRST
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Some more insecure Simon Riley talk, because he's precious.
18+
Word count: 1.4k
CW: nothing, just smut. Simon finds you in lingerie and has a stroke. I love him your honor.
Masterlist 🦊
𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬
Simon, who is not sure what to do with himself the first time you welcome him home in nothing but lingerie.
He’s so unbelievably tired, dropping his clothes on the floor of the bedroom without even lifting his head. Mumbling apologies to you—how he’ll clean tomorrow, how he just wants to go to bed and sleep fourteen hours straight, right now. Bonus points if you hold him through the night, too.
Yet you’re not replying, but he’s seen your silhouette in the darkness; he knows you’re awake because you whispered a soft “Welcome back” when he walked in the room. His heart pounds in his chest, his palms get clammy—he thinks he’s overstepping lines by not giving you the attention he thinks you deserve.
So, as he unzips his pants, he lifts his eyes to look at you, and fuck—
You’re lying on your side, propped on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm. Perfect tits covered in sheer fabric, burgundy and black, your nipples peeking through. The soft line of your waist is bare—he follows it with his eyes until they land on your hips. Ornated lace curves around your hipbone and thins into see-through, dark fabric over your mound. Two strips of silk clasp your knickers to a pair of thin stockings that cinch the fat of your thighs, and the sight makes his mouth water.
“Welcome back,” you say once again, this time with soft amusement.
He looks like a proper idiot. Hand still on his crotch, practically feeling how his cock comes to a stand at the mere sight of you.
He gulps. Feels a little lightheaded. “F’ me?”
You smile, chuckling softly but not derisively. Simon follows your hand as you guide it over your belly, up to the valley of your breast, as if you’re there, showing the goods he can pick and taste.
“For you.”
Simon is stunned into silence again.
Fuck is he supposed to do, uh? He’d be content just looking at you lying there and looking like you came out of a magazine, instead of touching you and potentially ruining what you did just for—for him?
He must not have noticed how his whole body (aside from his cock) has gone into standby—entered sniper mode. He's quiet, breaths reduced and silent, eyes attentive and narrowed.
It's a handful of seconds that leave you uncomfortable, as your plastic pose softens, your smile faltering at the corners.
“You don’t like it?” You ask, trying to sound steady, but he picks up the nervousness in your tone right away.
He won’t let you have it, obviously. He snaps out of it and takes you in for what you are: a fucking present, on his bed, wrapped in strings and bows and lace like gift wrap.
“Shoulda guessed it was too much, maybe. Should’ve gone for somethin’ soft—"
Simon is on you in seconds. Grabs your face in his hands and smashes his lips to yours something fierce, nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. No hesitation. Simple, tangible desire. Scorching lust. Want. Need—fuck, he’s never kissed you like this.
Your eyes lose their surprise, and they slowly surrender to him—hands wandering down to help him out of his pants and briefs. And then you wrap your arms around his neck, grazing his scalp with your nails until he shivers.
Simon thought there was nothing comparable to the softness of your skin against the harder patches of scars freckling his abdomen. But he’s proved wrong when he feels the rough texture of your lace scratch his chest and his hips—it has him leaking embarrassingly quick.
He’s all lips and tongue as he races down your chest, sloppy kisses leaving a burning trail between your tits, down your belly, settling on your cunt covered by thin mesh.
Simon looks up at you, holding your thighs between thick fingers, smushing them against his cheeks. His eyes are hooded, dark, different. He tilts his head and bites into the plump flesh within reach—not enough to hurt, but sure enough to taste. Mercifully passes his tongue over the teeth marks before biting into it again, until the sting has you arching your back off the bed.
And he never breaks eye contact, which leaves you dumbfounded and flustered to the bone—because where is this confidence coming from? You’re wide-eyed and biting your own teeth in anticipation—this is all new and all the more exciting.
His kisses travel from the lines of your stretch marks up to your sex, where he doesn’t even bother moving the gusset of your knickers, and he just dives in.
Tongue flat against your cunt, drenching the sheer fabric with his spit and your moisture. Your moans are so soft compared to the sloppy mess he’s making of you down there, his insecurity blessed by a sort of beginner’s luck. Or maybe he’s just that hungry, and that is enough for your cunt flutter around nothing anyway.
You’re speechless when he finally lifts himself up, slotting his hips between your kiss-bitten thighs. His cock lands heavy on your pelvis, painting your lower belly with speckles of sheer precum. Head swollen and red right above your belly button.
You look at him wide-eyed, on your back, stock-still—anticipating his next move with your heart rate spiking.
He takes you completely by surprise (once again? In one night? Who is this man?), when he moves your knickers to the side, and instead of plunging in, he slides his cock between your folds and snaps the lace back above it. And then he starts rutting in shameless abandon, holding you steady by your thighs, letting the sheer fabric of your panties cover his tip and half of his shaft, as he runs himself back and forth over the surface of your pussy.
“M’gonna ruin it, sorry.” He croaks, as one of his hands comes to clumsily grab your tits through the lace. “So fuckin’ pretty—fuck—bloody hell, you—”
You coax him to go on with breathless moans because he’s never looked more breathtaking than he does now. Tiny drops of sweat drip from his forehead onto your belly, cheeks flushed and long lashes fanning his cheekbones. His lips yield a grunt each time the lace scratches his shaft. Your breath hitches each time the head of his cock catches your clit.
“Gonna buy ya a new one, yeah?” He grunts, looking down at the wet patch his cock is making through the lace. “Gonna buy ya fuckin’ ten.”
He’s never been this vocal, and you don’t dare to mouth a whisper in case he catches himself in the act. Not even when you cum, a short and stinging orgasm that makes your clit burn at the friction, do you dare to moan. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, neck corded in the strain to keep it in, flushing with warmth in unbearable silence.
You think you hear his voice crack through the cotton in your ears when you come back down from your high. “Fuck—God, fuck. Wha’ a gift, eh? F’ me. All f’me.”
He pulls back a few moments later, taking his cock out of your panties and into a thick hand. A few pumps, and he cums on your lace, painting your belly and your cunt in glistening white.
He’s panting as his hand languidly comes to a halt. Chest flushed and with a thin layer of sweat over it.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, clearly dizzy—as if he needs to apologize for this. “I ruined it. I—just—gonna go grab somethin’ to—to clean y'up, wait 'ere—Jesus Christ.”
He slowly comes to stand, knees popping and legs shaking as he stumbles to the bathroom.
You look down at the spurts of cum covering your stomach and staining the lace of your panties, and then you flop your head back onto the mattress, wide eyes locked to the ceiling.
A chuckle of disbelief escapes you, still in shock from the sudden switch in behavior. And you think, when he comes back with a towel to clean the mess he’s made on your skin, that you might have to take another trip to the shop this weekend—buy yourself a new little piece.
But later, then, he falls asleep with his head on your chest, fingers lazily toying with the lace of your bra (because he’s asked you to keep it on, you know—“Like how 't feels”), and so you move up your shopping a little—already on your phone, running your thumb to skim through pinks and blues, laces and silks.
You might just order a new one right now.
It’s at that moment that he shifts in his sleep, slipping his hand under the band of your lacy bra and curling his fingers around your breast.
You change your mind.
You might just order ten.
#cod mw2#insecure Simon Riley makes a comeback#because I can't get enough of him#I love him your honor#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod#fanfic#ghost x reader#smut#cod smut#x reader#cod fluff
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Wowza. Part one blew up way more than I thought it would so here! Part two! I do have more thoughts about this so there might be a couple more parts to come. We'll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Eddie takes half a second to consider just not answering. Maybe throwing his phone away and never going back to the restaurant they went to last night so he never has to confront whatever it is that's about to happen. Maybe even fleeing the country and living alone on a sheep farm with no friends and go relationships ever again so something like this never happens again.
But then he thinks of Steve. Kind, funny Steve with the bright eyes and soft skin who looked at Eddie like he could fall in love with him and he knows that whatever comes next, Steve deserves for Eddie to see it through with him.
New Message: Steve H.
Hey
Just that one word sends Eddie's heart into his throat. He can see that Steve is still typing, those little ellipses of doom popping on and off the screen. Realistically, Steve probably doesn't know what happened, right? Eddie's pretty sure Steve wasn't in on it and it's been less than an hour since Eddie himself found out, so probably not.
Steve H: Gareth called me
Fuck.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.
If Eddie's heart was in his throat at the first text, the second one has it dropping through his body and out of his goddamned ass. It's not that he doesn't want Steve to know. He was always planning to tell him, he was just hoping he could be the one to do it. Gareth being a little shit and calling Steve first was not part of the plan.
Steve H: He told be about the prank. I'm sorry if I wasn't what you expected and you were just being nice. We can pretend it never happened. No hard feelings.
Eddie slams his head into his pillow. This is such a cluster fuck he can hardly bring himself to look at the text but he needs to come up with some kind of response, like, yesterday if he wants any chance of keeping the man of his dreams from running for the hills because apparently, Eddie's friends are trying to destroy his life. He takes a deep breath and starts typing.
Eddie: Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I just found out about what they did an hour ago at practice. I didn't think they would just call you out of the blue like that, I was just about to text you.
Not completely true, but Eddie was going to text him about it, just after screaming into his pillow and making a couple Vudu dolls first.
Eddie: For what it's worth I really do like you and I would love to still take you out on that second date, but I understand if my friends scared you off and you want nothing to do with me. I know it's fucked up.
It takes a minute for Steve to respond, the typing bubbles ebbing and flowing as Steve types and retypes whatever it is he wants to say. Eddie is about ready to call it a wash and start googling sheep farms for sale in Ireland when a new text comes in, dispelling all thoughts of learning to sheer wool.
Steve H: Are you sure?
And fuck if that doesn't hurt his heart. Eddie has spent all of two and a half hours with Steve, he's a virtual stranger, but Eddie can swear he can feel all of Steve's secondhand insecurity through that one lonely sentence. Before he even registers what he's asking, he send a quick reply.
Eddie: Can I Facetime you?
Before Eddie can try to rethink his decision, his screen lights up with a notification. Steve is calling him.
Eddie scrambles to answer, fumbling his phone a little in his haste and almost missing the call completely. He manages to get it on the last ring, breathing heavily in a way he knows can't be flattering.
All thoughts about his lack of dexterity fly out the window when he looks into his screen. On their date, Steve was perfectly put together. Hair meticulously done, clothes freshly pressed, and a light sheen of lipgloss accentuating the perfect curve of his mouth. While Steve is still beautiful through the lens of his camera, it's clear that he's been crying. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hair out of order in a way Eddie thinks is probably unusual for him, and Eddie can see that he's wearing a well-loved beige hoodie.
"Hi," Steve says, waving a shy hand almost the same way he had last night.
"Hey sweetheart," Eddie says, keeping his voice low and gentle, desperate to soothe Steve however he can through the distance of their phones.
For a minute they just look at each other, neither one knowing what to say in a situation like this. Eddie sees Steve gearing up to say something, but he cuts in before he starts. There's something he needs to say while Steve can see him face to face.
"I'm really sorry about what happened!" He says, much lounder than he intended. "My friends were being dicks. I haven't dated in a while and instead of being normal fucking people they set up this whole stupid prank but I swear I wasn't in on it!"
Something about what he says draws a small smile from the corner of Steve's mouth, so Eddie keeps talking. "Besides, if they wanted to prank me they should have picked someone that isn't a literal fucking model in disguise. There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't going to beg you for that second date."
At that, Steve gives a little chuckle and it lifts Eddie's heart from where it'd fallen onto the floor and puts in back in his chest 10 times lighter than before.
"Jesus, are you always such a flirt Munson?" he says.
"Only when the boys are especially pretty," Eddie responds.
Steve gives another little laugh at that before sobering up. He gives Eddie a long look through the phone, and Eddie lets him.
"Are you sure you don't want to just call it quits here man? Gareth was pretty adamant that I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for. I don't want you to feel like you have to humor me out of kindness." There's a forced flippancy to Steve's words that Eddie knows well from his own Munson Coping Strategies Handbook. Steve is trying to give him an out, but Eddie can tell that he doesn't want to.
For the first time since this all started, Eddie is well and truly mad. Gareth and Jeff had absolutely no business poking around in his love life in the first place, but now they've reached out to the guy Eddie already told them he liked to what? Tell him never mind actually, we don't think you're the right guy for our friend even though he told us very explicitly how into you he is.
Eddie lets all the frustration, anger, and tenuous hope building up in his chest fuel his reply. This one has to count, he can feel it. It's a charisma saving throw with the whole campaign on the line. He can't miss this one.
"Honestly Steve, if you asked me two days ago what I was looking for in a partner, I probably would have said I wanted to date another alternative metalhead or punk who likes playing DnD and getting high on the weekend." Eddie can see Steve's shoulders slump as his eyes dart away, but he pushes on, determined to make his point.
"But, I haven't had as good a time as we had last night in a really long time." Steve looks back up, eyes alight with the same tentative hope Eddie himself is channeling. "I think you're funny and interesting, and you have the absolute worst takes on ice cream flavors, and you're hot as hell. Like, seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life."
Steve smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
Critical success.
"So, about that second date."
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Tag List
@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow
#steddie#fanfiction#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#corroded coffin#This is kind of my first time writing real dialogue#so lmk if it sounds weird#if I do another part#it will probably be about steddie getting closer#while Eddie avoids his friends#and they both grapple with what it would mean to reconcile with them#dreamer speaks
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Baby In Papaya : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: as your son starts to join you in the mclaren paddock, it doesn't take long for him to earn his own piece of papaya too
The noise in the garage quietened as soon as the team watched you walk in, holding onto the hand of your son. Lando stood up straight away, kneeling down with his arms wide open as your son ran through and jumped straight into Lando’s hold.
“Hi buddy,” Lando grinned, pressing a kiss against his cheek before placing him back on his feet, allowing him to say hello to the other faces around the garage that he knew.
Once you had placed your bag down, you made your way over to Lando too, feeling his lips peck against your cheek, his arm snake around your waist. Zak was quick to come and greet you, letting you know just how excited the team were to have you back in the garage again.
“Anything you need today, you let us know,” he told you, making sure that you were looked after. Since having your son, it was your first time at a race, and the team were keen to make life as easy for you as they possibly could.
After saying hello, your son ran back over to Lando, hiding behind his leg as the noise got louder. With everyone stood in a huddle, Zak reached up onto one of the shelves, pulling down a box and holding it out to you.
“We got a little something for the little man to welcome him to McLaren,” Zak told you.
“Really, you guys are adorable,” you grinned, taking the box from Zak.
With your son’s help you lifted the lid off, greeted by a patch of papaya straight away. As you reached in, the material unfolded to reveal a McLaren shirt, a smaller replica of the one that Lando wore around the garage.
Your son’s eyes lit up as he realised that he had been given the same as what Lando wore, bouncing up and down on his feet. “What do you say?” You asked him, watching him peer around from behind Lando and thank Zak for the gift he had given him.
Soon enough, your son had taken his top off, his arms stretched up in the air. You knew exactly what he wanted, placing the new shirt over his head, pulling it down as it fit perfectly around his little body.
No one was more excited than Lando though as he knelt down, standing next to your son. They were almost identical in their matching shirts, exactly what Lando had always dreamt of.
“You look so handsome,” you smiled across at them both.
“I’m just like daddy now, aren’t I?”
Your head nodded in reply to your son, “hopefully it stops at the shirt, if it extends to driving race cars too, I think might have a breakdown.”
Several chuckles came from around the paddock as the team went back to their jobs, leaving you, Lando and your son sat in one corner of the garage, with Oscar soon inviting himself over to join the three of you too.
“When you were pregnant Lando used to talk about how he wanted to match with his child,” Oscar informed you, “it was all he talked about.”
“Did he now?” You teased, “funny how you never told me that.”
Lando shot a glare across at Oscar who had a proud smile on his face, lifting your son and placing him into his lap as he continued to admire his shirt.
“I was thinking we could head out on a paddock tour in a bit,” Lando spoke, wanting to make sure that his son got the full experience of the garage, even if he was a little too young to be able to take it all in.
“Will it be safe enough to take him around?” You quizzed, a little more doubtful than Lando was. “It’s busy out there, especially with all the car parts being moved around too.”
Lando nodded confidently, not wanting you to worry. “I’ll be right there with you guys so you won’t be by yourselves. And if he gets lost, at least everyone will know that he belongs to McLaren now too.”
Your eyes rolled as Lando proudly admired how amazing your son looked in the shirt once again. It had been a long time since you’d seen him so excited, knowing just how long he’d waited to show your son around, you just couldn’t say no to him.
As he watched your head nod, Lando’s eyes lit up. “There’s so many people who have been pestering to meet him.”
“I’m trusting you," you warned, poking against Lando's side. You looked across at Oscar who couldn’t help but laugh at you both, remembering how much fun it was to have you at the paddock. “This might be the stupidest decision that I’ve made in my life.”
Oscar cleared his throat from beside you, “I’d argue that your stupidest decision was choosing to sleep with this guy,” he joked, smirking in Lando’s direction. “I mean even after all these years I wonder what it was that you ever saw in Lando.”
“I’m sat right here,” Lando reminded you, speaking as if he was invisible. ”And obviously she saw how devilishly handsome I was, otherwise we wouldn’t have our little papaya baby sat here right now.”
He was Lando’s pride and joy, on the edge of his seat with excitement about being able to introduce him to everyone. Before you knew it, he was up and holding onto your son to carry him round, hurrying you up so that he could take you around with him.
As Lando began to walk, you hung back, with Oscar deciding to join you too. “Do you have any idea how excited he’s been to do this?” He asked you.
“I imagine he’s been unbearable,” you laughed.
Oscar nodded, never failing to be surprised by how well you knew Lando. “I think everyone has been driven slightly up the wall listening to him this weekend. He’s told me five times alone that you were coming, just in case I happened to forget.”
Ahead of you, Lando walked with a spring in his step, allowing his son to wave to just about everyone. A few of the other drivers came over, keen to meet the little boy that they had heard so much about. Your son was adorable at the best of times, but dressed in papaya, he had everyone obsessing over him.
“I think someone’s enjoying themselves,” Lando smiled back at you as yet another driver waved goodbye. Lando bounced your son in his hold, making sure that you saw just how big his smile was.
“Is it our son, or is it secretly you?” You joked.
“I’m having the time of my life,” Lando proudly admitted, unable to contain himself. “I always knew it anyway, but papaya really does suit my boy.”
Your head shook at Lando’s grin, “it was only a matter of time before I ended up losing my son to McLaren, wasn’t it?”
“His whole wardrobe will be papaya soon, I’ll make sure it’s packed out with plenty of merch,” Lando assured you, “and everyone will know that he is daddy’s biggest fan.”
“I remember the days when I was your biggest fan,” you joked, “now I’ve just been pushed aside like I’m nothing thanks to our child.”
“Don’t worry, there’s a place for you at number two.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#lando norris#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#formula one#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula one x you#formula x reader#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you
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I need apology sex with dealer!Rafe x reader. Oh I would just know he would go beyond to make his girl forgive him. He wouldn’t be able to handle causing her any type of hurt and he PUTS IN THAT WORK
#ovulationweek 😏
he can’t have his pretty girl be upset with him. 😩
You didn’t even remember why you had been upset with him in the first place. The frown you had when he had come through the door now gone as he buried his handsome face in your pussy. He couldn’t stand to see you pout and all he wanted was for you to forgive him. You were too goddamn pretty to cry, and he had to show you how sorry he was. He had never been one to see the point in eating pussy as he had always been selfish. With you though, he would gladly devour your sweet cunt until you creamed all over his tongue. You were so fucking beautiful, and he couldn’t wait to put his dick inside you.
Your whines above had him going, his pert nose buried perfectly against your clit as his tongue lapped up your leaking juices. “You know daddy’s sorry, yeah?” He’d mumble between licks, his blue eyes never leaving your face as he watched it contort in pleasure. “So… so… so… sorry baby.” He’d whisper in a tone that made your core flutter.
You wanted to protest, be mad again all over as he pulled away. You already missed the warmth of his head between your thighs, but knew you were about to feel warm in a completely different way. You watched with heavy eyes, lash extensions fluttering as he stood up straight. As much as you loved seeing him on his knees for you, his massive frame in all its glory was something else. His large hands came to the back of your thighs, gently pulling your hips down further towards the edge of the bed. “Come here mama, daddy’s gonna show you how sorry he is.”
Oh and he was as the sounds of his sculpted hips smacking into yours filled the room to mix in with the same sounds as your gushy hole and cries of pleasure. Your fresh set dug into the soft sheets, pretty toes curling against his muscled back from him pounding you out with his thick pipe. His expensive chain dangled in your face as he laid into you, his buzzcut already damp with sweat as he was absolutely drilling your shit in.
“Yeah… can’t have my pretty girl upset. Can I? Daddy loves you so fucking much mama. You know I’ll do anything for you. Give you whatever you want.” His said in a raspy voice as he stared down at you.
You knew you were about to make a mess and there was no stopping it. You tried to find the words to warn him, but only could get as far as tapping the tips of your glittery acrylics against his abs. He looked down just in time to watch your pussy spasm around his fat length as you began to squirt not only on him but on yourself as well. He let out a breathless laugh, being covered in your sweetness and watching you shudder against the mattress only riled him up more. “Fuck…daddy’s gonna nut all up inside your pretty pussy.” He groaned, jaw falling open slightly as he felt his lower stomach tighten.
It was hard to stay mad at a man who looked like that, calling you pretty while he filled you up with his hot cum. Not to mention once he caught his breath, asking you to pull up the Chanel bag you wanted on his phone.
#rafe cameron#dealer!rafe#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron concepts#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut#outer banks
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Out Of Her Cage
Kim Chaewon x Male Reader, Original Character
Kinkvember Chapter 4
Main kinks: bondage, daddy kink, double penetration, wax play
Word count: 4346.
Chaewon wasn't always like this, but over the years, she has increasingly searched for new sexual experiences to satisfy herself. Each day that passes, she gets hornier and hornier. At this point, her nymphomania is well known, and she doesn't care if it's getting in her way of leading her own group.
One of her favorite new hobbies these days is going to fetish clubs, dressing herself in skimpy leather outfits, and performing inside a cage, where she's a roaring tiger but, once out, becomes a submissive puppy to her masters.
Chaewon shakes her ass in anticipation as she stares at you inside the cage she's in. You happen to be the first client of the night, and she's always keen to get things going.
You kneel down and tease her, holding the cage keys in your hands and grabbing the chain from the choker she wears around her neck. "Are you going to be an obedient pet, my little pupu?" you ask her. "Yes, sir, yes, master," Chaewon answers. You tease her a little bit, touching the keys against the cage's bars, before shoving your thumb in her little mouth, only after that freeing her from the cage.
Chaewon crawls and gets up as you grab her. "I'm so horny tonight," she says as you hold her by the neck. "Get down and bend over," you say to her as Chaewon lays her hands on the top of the cage she was just fred from. Obviously, the first thing you do is spank her ass. "OHHHHHH," she screams. "Yessss," she says when you do it a second time.
You touch Chaewon's hot body, getting her increasingly horny. More spanking follows, and she loves it, moaning sexily each time you hit her cute ass. "Yes, baby, spank my ass," she begs. Chaewon turns around, kissing you as she grinds her body against yours, focusing especially on your manhood area as she rubs her clothed pussy against your pants.
You grab Chaewon right at the gap between her thighs, teasing her clothed pussy as you run your hands over her panties. It doesn't take long for you to reach under them, massaging her little pussy and making more moans come out of her mouth.
"Oh my God," Chaewon moans as you mercilessly finger her vagina. "Yes, please, keep going," she whispers as you touch her pussy, turning herself into a begging puppy for you, who quickly feeds the juices of her cunt into her mouth, watching her moans get muffled by your massive hand.
Chaewon gets on her knees and gives your pants some licks. She's really horny for your cock, licking your balls before they even come out of your pants. You take advantage of her horniness, taking your belt off and wrapping it around her neck. "Breathe through that fucking dick," you tell her, smothering Chaewon's face with your pants.
"I need your cock; please give it to me," Chaewon begs as you finish choking her with the belt, jumping like a puppy wanting a bone. You unzip your pants and shove it on her tongue, Chaewon closing her eyes and opening her mouth wide as you toy with it, giving her mouth some cock-slapping as you stroke it too.
"I want to be a good puppy; please use me," Chaewon begs as you shove your cock deeper in her mouth; she grabs it and licks your shaft. "That's so perfect," Chaewon says, quickly moving with a fast-paced blowjob, stroking it hard with one hand while massaging your balls with the other. "Yes," you say as Chaewon rubs your dick all over her face like a horny puppy.
You can't resist the urge to pound Chaewon's mouth, the warmth of it being felt all over your veiny cock. "Oh my God," you groan as you hit deep in her throat, making her gag. "Get up, puppy," you tell her afterwards, as Chaewon keeps stroking your cock. You take her mask off and choke her as she keeps jerking you off before diving down for more crazy cock sucking. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you scream.
Chaewon dives under your balls and licks them hard as you stroke your shaft. "Yes, be a nasty whore; lick my balls like a good puppy," you tell her, shoving her face against your shaft and making her sniff it. "That's it," you say, praising her ball-licking skills.
"I'll be Daddy's nasty little whore," Chaewon says. "Then come here," you tell her, bending her against the cage and pulling her panties down, quickly pushing your cock against her pussy. "Ohhh, daddy's big cock is stretching me so good already," Chaewon says as you are just barely halfway inside her. You grab Chaewon's ass for better grip as you pound her pussy fast, the tightness of her hole making you take a big effort to fuck her. You put her leg on top of the cage and pick up the speed. "Shhhhh," you say as she moans.
"Sit down," you order to Chaewon as she opens her legs while getting on top of the cage, fingering her pussy for you, who quickly dive to eat her out. "Holy shit, that's so fucking good," Chaewon says as you tongue her folds. "Daddy's tongue is the best," Chaewon moans as you lick her cunt like a maniac, her getting overwhelmed by the stimulation as you make her body shake hard.
You grab Chaewon once again by the chain on her neck; she tries to stroke your cock, but you quickly tame her, turning her around and spanking her face while she grinds her ass on your dick. You lay on top of the cage, where Chaewon had already arrenged a pillow and a mattress for more sex. She gets on all fours and sucks your cock a little more, giving you a great view of her ass.
"Come here," you say after Chaewon finishes savoring your cock. She gets on yop of you, and you guide your cock to her pussy, pounding her from down low and then letting her ride it perfectly as you caress and spank her ass. "Oh my God," she moans, riding you very hard as you suck her perky tits and dancing on your cock as if she were performing on stage.
"Fuck, you're going to drain me," you say to Chaewon, making her slow down as you two passionately make out. You then pick up the pace, firmly gabbing her butt as you fuck her pussy hard. "Yes, daddy, kill this puppy pussy good," Chaewon moans. You get up and sit on the mattress, letting her grind on your cock. "It's so good," Chaewon says, before you switch to a spooning position, opening her legs and making sexy eye contact with her as you fuck her slow and massage her boobs.
Chaewon pants and moans as your cock speeds up the pumps in her pussy and your balls smack hard against her skin. You then surprise her, staying in the same position and switching to her ass. You reach to increase your grip over Chaewon's tits. "Daddy, go slow, please; your cock is too big for my ass," Chaewon begs, as you are already balls deep buried in her butt. "That's good, that's good," she claims.
Quickly, your slow thrusts give way to fast poundings. "Be an obedient puppy and let daddy fuck your big ass," you say to Chaewon, putting your hands in her mouth. "I'm going to shove my hands in your fucking little mouth while I fuck your fucking asshole like that, understood, little puppy?" you ask her. "Isn't it good?" you keep asking, slapping her face.
"Yes, daddy, fuck that little ass, oh yes, that dick is so fucking good, daddy," Chaewon repeats as she moans. You once again stop a bit and whisper dirty words in her ear. You kiss her and pick up the speed, your legs moving really fast as you pound her ass, and she fingers her pussy.
"Holy shit, holy shit, daddy fucks his little puppy so good," Chaewon says in an infantile voice as she receives a huge anal drilling. You sit down a bit and let her climb out of her cock to taste her own butthole, which she happily enjoys as she sucks and jerks your cock off furiously. "Such a dirty puppy mouth," you say to Chaewon, who gets even nastier and rims your asshole and then puts your balls fully in her mouth.
Chaewon gets on all fours on the top of the cage as you get ready for another round in her ass, pounding her fast and hard. "Daddy is going to put that dick all the way deep in that asshole," you say to her as Chaewon turns into a moaning mess as you get more and more addicted to fucking her asshole.
"So good, such a fucking tight ass," you say to Chaewon as you spank her butt once again; she keeps moaning a lot. "Get down," you say as she lowers her head and follows your orders. "Yes, daddy," she obliges as you once again slow down and enjoy the tightness of her ass.
"I love being a good whore for Daddy's dick," Chaewon says as you keep hitting her butt with more and more slaps. The little puppy rolls her eyes as you get deep in her butthole. "Oh fuck, I'm all the way," you say as your tip reaches the depths of Chaewon's pink anus and her tight asshole squeezes your cock.
"I'm ready to destroy that little ass and make you my little pet," you tell Chaewon, getting on top of her like a bull and manhandling her butthole. "Fuck daddy, that dick is hitting me so deep," Chaewon says. "Yes, daddy, keep fucking me like that," Chaewon says. You only get crazier, punishing her butt with deep and fast poundings like a madman.
"Spread it for me," you tell Chaewon, pulling out and marveling at the wonderful big gape in her anus. You dive in and sniff her butthole, which she enjoys a lot. Chaewon lays on the mattress and keeps spreading her butthole. "I want that cock back inside me; please, Daddy, give it back to me," she begs. You give it back to her just as she asks, her ass still very tight as you struggle to put even your tip in.
"Oh fuck," you groan as her anus clenches your tip right from the get-go. "I love how good you luck with my big cock in your little asshole, oh my god," you tell Chaewon. You switch a bit to her pussy, keeping the same consistent pace. "Oh my god, it's so fucking amazing. Thank you for fucking me like a good pet," Chaewon says. You order her to get back on her knees and use her tongue to clean your cock. "Move that mouth; I wanna see how nasty you can get," you say, jerking your cock against her face while she sniffs your balls and rims your asshole.
"Perfect, now get up and come here," you tell Chaewon, grabbing her neck and pinning her against the cage while she masturbates herself. You two tenderly kiss each other as Chaewon starts squirting. "My holes are itching for your fucking cock, daddy," Chaewon says.
But first, you can't resist the urge of nutting in Chaewon's tummy, dropping a bit of cum all over her midriff. "I love the way you fire these ropes of sperm in my belly," she says as you keep stroking your cock while she rubs her pussy at the same rhythm. Your cock is quickly back up hard as you lie on top of the cage and let Chaewon sit her ass back on it. "Oh yes, perfect," you tell her as she impales herself on your dick.
Chaewon bounces her ass perfectly on your cock as you praise her. "Like that, like that, keep going, don't stop," you tell her, hitting her ass to ensure she keeps riding it. "YES, LIKE THAT," you groan as Chaewon sits on your dick balls deep in her ass. She keeps riding. "Daddy is so deep in my ass; I love it," she says, moving into a straight bounce. "Come on, come on," you say, spanking her ass and begging Chaewon to pick up more speed. "Holy shit, holy shit," she says. "Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, fuck, fuck fuck," you groan as Chaewon goes faster and faster.
Chaewon bends over and keeps riding. "Show me that ass," you tell her. She twerks on your cock and puts you on the edge of cumming. "Good girl, go all the way," you command her as Chaewon arches her back and bounces. You push your cock up to match her riding. "You're so pretty sitting on that cock; I love the way you move up and don't it; I don't want you to stop; that's the way, baby; that's how you're going to make me cum so hard when you move like that," you say to her.
Indeed, it doesn't take long for you to come over and start jerking your cock off in Chaewon's face in anticipation. "Let me see that pretty face right there, ohhhhh," you say, and then start glazing her face with cum. "Look at that," you say as the streaks of your cum cover her face like they are forming a tiger mustache. "Every last drop for me, daddy," Chaewon says as she licks the tip of your dick and cleans you off before offering you a proposal.
"My next client is coming in a few minutes; I want you to join him in the other room, but first, get dressed," she says. "Sure," you tell her.
Chaewon switches to a slim white outfit and teases you and Zac, the other client. Both of you grab her petite body and tie her to an X-cross. You kiss her libs while Zac sucks her tits and runs his hands down her pussy, pulling her pussy to the side. "Look what we have here, some pretty pink pussy," you say. Both of you take turns sucking Chaewon's tits as she moans loudly.
You and Zac come together and rip Chaewon's outfit and quickly pull your cocks out and rub them against her panties, before quickly pulling them down, already getting Chaewon completely naked. "Oh my God, ahhhh," she moans as Zac starts fingering her pussy and you grab her neck.
"Let's see if you can be our dirty girl tonight," you say to Chaewon. "Yes, daddy," she answers. Zac covers her body full of oil, and you help rub it all over her body. "Fuck, this is amazing," she says as you two then lick her tits together.
Zac sticks his fingers in Chaewon's pussy. "Fucking Godddddd," she moans as juices come out of her cunt. You stimulate her body with a violet wand, making it tremble. Zac then spanks her tits. "Thank you, Daddy, I need this so bad," Chaewon says to him. You keep using the violent wand to give Chaewon electric stimulation, even putting it in her tongue. "Thank you," she says. "Ohhh, bad girl," you tell her as you continue to electrocute her.
"How about some of that?" you ask Chaewon, bringing a cup of hot wax and pouring it over her body. "Ahhhhh," Chaewon moans as the hot liquid burns through her soft skin, and she loves it, especially when you pour the purple liquid over her tits. "How's that?" you ask her. "So good, Daddy," she answers.
"Let's turn her around," you say, giving Chaewon's butt more spanking. "Such pretty fucking holes," you tell Chaewon as you spread her ass and both of you take turns slapping her hutt. Chaewon lifts her legs. "You need some cock?" you ask her. "Yes, please," she begs.
You put your cock back in Chaewon's pussy. "Oh fuck," she moans. Zac looks at you two and jerks his cock off in anticipation for his turn as he whispers dirty words in Chaewon's ear and hits her ass while you pound her pussy. You then let Zac take his turn. "That's fucking perfect," you say. "Exactly what I needed," Chaewon answers as she moans.
"I need that big dick, thank you," Chaewon says as Zac fucks her pussy. "I'll be your fucking toy tonight; keep going," she whispers. You enjoy the spanking you keep giving her ass, waiting for your next turn, which comes soon, as Zac pulls out and both of you take turns licking her anus.
"Look at this arch," you say, admiring Chaewon's ass as she bends over for another round of Zac's pussy pounding. You stick your cock in her mouth, beginning a spit-roasting session, before dropping down to toy with her body as Chaewon gets pounded. "I'm just a dirty little slut," she says. "Yes, you are, and we are going to use all your fucking holes tonight," you tell her.
Zac pulls Chaewon's hair and gives her a fast-paced standing doggy fuck. "Yes, fuck fuck fuck, like that, like that," she begs, diving to suck your cock hard as she gets pounded from behind. You and Zac fuck Chaewon's face and pussy in perfect sync. "Fuck, that dick is so good," Chaeown says, getting down to both rods in her mouth and bobb her head on them like an addict. "Thank you for those big cocks," Chaewon says, getting very sloppy and dropping all her saliva over them, letting it run down her tits as she takes.
"Where do these fucking dicks belong?" both of you ask her. "In my mouth at the same time," Chaewon says, taking on them at the same time and then rubbing both over her face. "I'm so addicted to those big fucking cocks," she says, moaning.
You push Chaewon against your cock as she gags on it. "Do you want some more?" Zac responds, fucking her face hard. "Stand up," you tell her as Zac lifts Chaewon's legs for you to fuck her pussy. "Such a good whore," he says, angling Chaewon's head down and filling it with his own cock. "Oh fuck," you say as Chaewon's pussy tightness still surprises you even after a long session. You and Zac spit roast her hard, you tying her arms up and clapping her cheeks while Zac pounds her face. Chaewon turned into nothing but a cocksleeve.
You two free Chaewon from the cross, bringing a matress where she gets on all fours. She bobs her head on Zac's cock while you lick her butthole. You quickly fill Chaewon's little pussy as she bounces her ass on your cock. "Such a perfect ass, fuck," you say, then grab her hair and booty and let her choke on Zac's cock until you make a proposal.
"Wanna ride his cock now and get double stuffed too?" you ask Chaewon.
"Yes, daddy, please," she answers. Zac lies on the mattress as Chaewon jerks his cock off before sitting on it. "Fuck," he groans. "Ohhh, look at that piece of work," you say, impressed with her fast bounce as you spank in her ass. "Are you ready to have another cock inside you?" you ask her. "Yes, always, Daddy," Chaewon answers as she moans.
"Please, please, stuff me, daddy, ahhhh," Chaewon moans as you get your cock in her ass, starting the double penetration session. "Where do these fucking dicks belong?" Zac asks her again. "In my fucking holes, that's so good," Chaewon answers as she rolls her eyes.
"You like getting double stuffed?" Zac asks Chaewon as he sucks her tits and you thurst into her ass. "Yeah, yeah," she answers, moaning. "Hply shit, holy shity," Chaewon repeats as she bounces on both cocks. "Perfect, that's how you ride it, baby; don't fucking stop," you tell her, spanking her butt once again.
"OH MY GOD, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Chaewon screams. Both of you fuck her holes in perfect sync. Zac chokes her as you tease Chaewon. "Look how fucking deep we are on that fucking pussy and asshole," you say. "Yeah, that's good, hitting my slutty holes deep, OH MY GOD, thank you, daddy," Chaewon says as you two keep double stuffing her.
"Pull those cheeks back; let me see all the action," you tell Chaewon as she spreads her ass. "I can't believe I'm taking both these big cocks in my holes, holy shit," she moans. "Pleae don't stop, pleae don't stop, I'm dying for this," Chaewon begs as both of you pick up the pace and make your balls slap against her skin. "FUCKKKK, I'm cumming all over those dicks; look what you are doing to me, Daddy, keep going deep in my pussy and ass," she claims, rolling her eyes.
"That's exactly what you wanted, slut?" you ask her. "Yes, daddy, that's what I liked, getting plugged by both those big cocks in my tight holes, hmmmmm," she says. "YESSSSS," Chaewon suddenly screams as you get more animalesque, mounting on top of her and stuffing your cock deep in her anus, thrusting hard as your balls make contact with Zac's shaft sitting idle in her pussy.
"Holy shit, I love that; it's so fucking big," Chaewon says as you can't stop thrusting your cock in her ass. "I love it," Chaewon moans as Zac joins and starts thrusting up her pussy real fast, both balls hitting each other now. "Thank you for stuffing me so good on both my fucking gaping holes; I'm a big fucking whore who can take it all," Chaewon says.
"Come on, suck our dicks," you demand to Chaewon, who obliges like an obedient pet. She dives on Zac's cock to taste her pussy, jerking yours off in anticipation and then taking both balls deep in her mouth before taking. "Oh my God, I'm fucking spoiled by all those cocks today," Chaewon moans as she gets sloppy with both your dicks. "Wanna sit your ass on him next?" you ask her, getting her up. "Of course," she says.
You push Chaewon's asshole against Zac's cock as he fucks her in a standing position. "He's already so deep in my ass," Chawewon says as you choke her. "Yes, all the way up your ass, like you wanted, little whore," you say to her as Zac keeps clapping her cheeks while you rub your hands on her body. "FUCK, HE'S GOING SO HARD IN MY ASS," Chaewon screams, but you just don't care, sucking her tits and choking her.
Zac gets back on the mattress as Chaewon bounces her ass on his cock really fast. "Yeah, that fucking ass can take it," Chaewon says. "Yes, ride that cock, ride until you show you deserve to get two dicks inside you," you tell her. "Yes, daddy, look at how hard I ride him; I want you to join and get inside me too; I need your dick again," she replies.
Chaewon opens her legs for you to get your cock in her pussy. "That dick in my pussy and my ass feels so good," she moans as both of you compete to see who goes deeper in each of her holes. "Fuck, that's amazing, so amazing," Chaewon says. You groan as you attack her pussy. "That's going to make me fucking cum," Chaewon says as she moans harder. You put her chin up, making her stare at you.
"I love the way you fuck me like that; it's fucking incredible," Chaewon says as you thrust so hard Zac's cock pulls out of her ass. "That's all I want to be, a little fucking slut with dick all over my holes, a stupid fucking whore for those two big cocks," she continues. You muffle her by shoving your hand in her mouth.
"How does that feel?" you ask Chaewon. "So good, I can't even think; I've just turned into a brainless fucking whore," she answers. The double penetration continues. "This is what I am meant for," Chaewon says as both of you keep stuffing your cocks in both her holes. "All I want is to be a perfect fucking whore for those big perfect cocks," she claims.
"Come down and suck our dicks again," you command to Chaewon. "Ye, yes, yes," she endlessly repeats, getting on her knees to taste her fuckholes, rubbing both cocks tips against her face, touching them against each other, and putting both in her mouth at the same time.
"Get up and put that ass up for me to fuck it again," you say as Chaewon obliges and you mount on top of her while she enjoys Zac's prick in her mouth. "You're such a dirty fucking cunt, Chaewon," you say to her. "Yes, I am," it's all she answers. Zac also comes in from behind and fills Chaewon's pussy, making her go back to getting double stuffed.
"OH MY GOD FUCK, AHHHHHH," Chaewon screams as both of you take her balls deep, showing no mercy for her little fuckholes. "Do you want both your daddies cumming inside you at the same time?" you ask her. "Better, I want both of you breeding me at the same time like a good whore," Chaewon says.
You follow her orders and stick your cock in Chaewon's pussy along with Zac's. The tightness of her vaginal hole getting stuffed with two cocks is enough to make both of you last for only a minute, as both you and Zac explode inside Chaewon's cunt, enjoying the cum ooze out of it as both of you pull out. "Thank you, daddies; you two made me a happy whore tonight stuffing all my holes like that," Chaewon says. "I hope you two get back tomorrow for more; I'm so hungry," she finishes.
Indeed, you and Zac got back on the next day, only to find Chaewon back in her cage, this time putting it in a standing position as seven other guys surrounded her.
"We were just waiting for you two to arrive; now we can start the gangbang," she says.
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𝐕𝐈𝐕𝐎 ꕥ FRANCO COLAPINTO
summary. a quick detour proves that you can still be best friends while dating.
warnings. nothing just pure fluff. franco & reader are down bad for each other.
gabri speaks! obsessed with how he’s the people’s princess of argentina. based off vivo by gustavo cerati. kind of short sorry.
SODASTEREO PLAYED FAINTLY in the background as the vibrant city of Buenos Aires faded behind you. You were only fifteen minutes into the forty minute drive to Franco’s hometown and he was already bored out of his mind. He had scrolled endlessly through instagram, twitter, tiktok, and even dabbled into netflix hoping something would catch his attention but nada. Then as he puts his phone down and notices you leaning against the window he suddenly remembers his girlfriend. The two of you were a relatively new couple and somehow he still hadn’t figured out the logistics of it.
“Che, how was your week?” He breaks the comfortable silence preferring your voice fill up the car.
“Franco we literally spent the whole week at yours watching all the Fast & Furious movies.” You remind him.
“Oh, yes! The part where they went to space?” He uses his hands to describe his feelings. “Cine.”
You can’t help but laugh at his mannerism as he describes his favorite scene of all the franchise. The sun shines brightly on his side and his brunette hair literally glows as he speaks. His brown eyes bore into yours as he proceeds to tell you about a show on his watchlist he wants to start with you when the season ends. You’re too lost in his features you don’t notice when he stops talking and waits for you to answer him. Not until he starts snapping his fingers in your face dramatically.
“Can I?” He asks shyly.
“Can you what?”
He looks away briefly for a moment, his cheeks turning a light hue of red, trying to gain the courage to ask you again. Because of course to his luck you didn’t hear him the first time. His hand instinctively goes to the back of his head scratching his neck as he opens up his mouth again.
“Can I lay in your lap?” And if you hadn’t paid attention then you wouldn’t have heard him from how silently he spoke.
“Franco we’re dating now. You don’t really have to ask anymore.” You send him a warm smile.
“It’s just we were friends before this for a long time and I’m still getting used to it. I wasn’t sure if I was overstepping.” He rambles on. “I’m just tired.”
“It’s fine. Come here.” You speak softly.
You shuffle your things to make space for him and soon enough his head is in your lap and your fingers are tracing his face. You’d spend enough time with him to know he was a fast sleeper so in a matter of minutes he was already lightly snoring under you. His curls are soft under your fingers but you’re careful to not give him knots. Franco was very sensitive about his hair and hated having to comb it all out. As Gustavo Cerati’s voice filled the car with Franco in your lap you wondered how you got so lucky.
The car came to a heavy halt and your eyes jolted open. You hadn’t even realized that you’d fallen asleep as well. Meanwhile, the brunette remained asleep. You figured the past few weeks had really tired him out. You recall the phone calls in the middle of the night in which he explained to you, excitedly, how williams was treating him. They were very lighthearted calls at first that gradually turned into calls where you had to remind him that they chose him for a reason. He was still your friend at the time but it was then when he realized he needed you. When you unexpectedly flew out to Mexico that was when he sealed the deal. He couldn’t let you go after that.
“Shh… Franco. Wake up.” You try to talk to him awake but he remains still.
“Franco!” This time you push him off jolting him awake.
“Ay!” He rubs his eyes awake as you brush your hair down hoping your little nap didn’t ruin it. “Oh, we’re here!”
You can barely make the view out of the car but you notice the small city center. There’s various shops, restaurants, and even a little park at the end. Your phone indicated that there was still twenty minutes left to his hometown so you were confused as to where you were right now. Franco opens the door for you and you patiently stand outside the car while he talks to the driver. You look around staring in awe at the architecture of the town you were in.
“Franco where are we?”
“Just a small detour.” He grabs your hand in his. “Come, I really wanted to show you around.”
He quickly puts his sunglasses on as if to hide his identity while he drags you around. You stop briefly at the market where he buys you a bracelet identical to his. He says that it will bring you luck and protection and warns you to never lose it or break it. Then he takes you to the corner store and encourages you to look around for some snacks. Something light he says as his mom is waiting for the two of you with dinner. You decide on an ice cream bar. One for him and one for you. The two of you thank the cashier before he takes you to the last stop on his itinerary.
The park at the end of the road was vibrant with the huge green football field adorning half of it. There was a small group of kids playing football on it and you watched in awe as they chased after the ball. All of them were wearing the same uniform meaning they’d ran straight to the park after school. Franco drags you to the wooden swing set under the only tree in the park.
“Whenever we went to the capital my mom would stop here and let me and my sister play for a little before we headed back. I just thought that it was finally time for me to share it with you.” He rocks back and forth. “So, it can be our place now.”
“Our place? That sounds…” You try and match his pace on the swings. “Nice.”
The two of you swing in comfortable silence admiring the nice weather before a ball lands comfortably in front of Franco. The two of you lift your heads up wondering where the ball came from. Faintly you spot the little boy running towards you as fast as his little feet could take him. His classmates stay back watching attentively.
“Me das la pelota?” He extends his little arms out. “Por favor.” (can you give me the ball, please?)
“Me encanta tu remera! Vos vas a ser futbolista profesional, no?” Franco makes small talk with him. (I like your shirt! You’re gonna be a professional football player right?)
“Si! Le voy a dar a Argentina la cuarta!” He yells excitedly. (Yes! I’m going to give Argentina their fourth title!)
“Dale!” Franco finally picks up the ball and places it in the little boys hands. “Ahí me invitas a la final, eh?” (Good! Invite me to the final, eh?)
“Si!” The boy nods his head enthusiastically. He’s about to say something else when his classmates yell at him to hurry up. He waves goodbye quickly and he’s on his way.
“Wanna bet four lucas he’ll end up on Argentina’s roster in ten years?” He jokes. ($4.000 in argentine pesos)
You don’t even pay attention to his joke because the interaction between Franco and the little boy had you gushing. Before you know it your hands are on his neck and you’re pulling him down for a quick kiss.
“What was that for?” He smiles down at you.
“I like you.” You mumble as he leans against you.
“I like you more.” He whispers against your ear.
#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#gabri writes#franco colapinto
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Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy
needy | LN4
pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes: I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday
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Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.
Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.
“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.
Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.
“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.
“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.
“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.
“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.
“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”
“You're evil”.
Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.
“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”
“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.
“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.
“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.
“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.
Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.
“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.
“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”
“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.
“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.
“You’ll get sick, baby”.
“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.
“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”
“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.
Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.
She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.
“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.
“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.
“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.
“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.
“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.
⤿ add yourself to the taglist!
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I had a summer job doing customer service calls and chats and god this so much. Unless it's an extremely simple situation (you just need one piece of info that is probably on our website somewhere but you couldn't find it), figuring out and solving the problem will be faster and easier on the phone.
On the phone you have the undivided attention of someone who does fundamentally want to help you, so if you're nice they will walk you through whatever you need to do, or figure out who it is you actually need to call about this. In the chat the person answering is almost certainly juggling several chats at once, so you'll have to wait.
Also sometimes in chat I'd see people's really long messages that must have taken ages to write but all the info I needed was in the first sentence. On the phone it's easier for the worker to just ask for the info they need and only that. Also at least where I worked quite often we'd have to ask people to call anyway because anything that required payments had to be done on the phone.
Don't get me wrong, before this job I disliked making those important calls as much as anyone, but it's something you can learn out of! I'm still a little nervous someone when I do them (frankly even at work calling out can be strange when you're used to answering the calls), but it really helps to remember that it's just a person on the other end that wants the call to go quick and wants the customer to be satisfied.
My top tips for how to make calls as easy as possible for yourself:
Know what you need before you call (make notes!). This is important especially if you have several problems or questions
Have all relevant information available. This means any order/ticket/tracking numbers or customer ids. If you've got a problem with a payment you want to have either the reference number (bank transfer) or your card (if it was a card payment) at hand.
Have note-taking equipment at the ready
If you have a name or email address that is tricky to spell, do not hesitate to spell it out or ask us to double-check we got it right. We try our best but it's honestly surprising just how many sounds can be mistaken for each other on the phone
one of the most infuriating things about becoming an adult is when you realize that it actually is 10x easier to solve problems by making a phone call vs literally any other communication method
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Morocco part 2
summary: Rafe says goodbye to Sofia and leaves her in outer banks while he goes to Morocco, where you are also and the danger that happens there rekindles the spark both of you thought had lost
warnings: mention of death, weapons, cheating, pregnancy, kidnapping, etc. only things of s4
word counter: 8530
author's note: spoilers of s4, many things have been changed but there are still spoilers, english is not my first language, this is long so get ready to read
The heavy silence of the room enveloped you as you sat there, sitting on the bed, staring at your hands as if you could erase what had happened. He had killed someone. You still felt it on your skin, the tension of that moment, the fear, the adrenaline, and in the end, the inevitability of the action. You knew you had done it in self-defense, that there was no other option. The guy was going to kill you or someone else, and you didn’t let yourself let that happen. But still, the feeling of having taken a life crushed you.
Rafe had stayed close, always by your side, as if he knew what you were feeling without you having to say it. He had been there, watching, but he hadn’t said anything about it. None of the Pogues had said anything. In a world where survival was the only thing that mattered, everyone knew that the lines between right and wrong could become blurred. It had been an extreme situation, and in the end, only the weight of what had been done remained.
You laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling feeling like you were trapped in your own thoughts, in a tangle of doubts you couldn’t untangle. Rafe was beside you, silent, but his presence was comforting. His words hadn’t come yet, but that didn’t matter. You knew you didn’t need him to tell you anything; not at that moment. What you needed was to be there, with someone who wouldn’t judge you, who understood that sometimes decisions weren’t so simple.
“You did it because you had to,” Rafe said, finally breaking the silence, his voice low, but firm. As if he had read your thoughts, as if he had felt everything that was going through your head. He approached you, placing a hand on your right hand, giving you the feeling that, despite everything you had done, you weren’t alone. “I know you didn’t want to, but there was no other way out.”
You looked at him, searching for something else in his eyes. A word, a comfort, a way to make the weight lighten, even if just a little. But as you looked at him, instead of finding judgment or disapproval, you found something unexpected: understanding. Rafe understood what had happened, even without having to explain it.
“I know,” you whispered, feeling a lump in your throat. “I did it because I had to. But I didn’t want to. I don’t want it to haunt me.”
He nodded, his gaze locked with yours. “Sometimes you don’t have a choice. And I know that if you had stopped, if you hadn’t, you’d be worse off now. But that doesn’t make you any less… human.”
The words weren’t what you expected to hear, but they carried a different weight. In that moment, you felt like maybe, just maybe, the guilt wasn’t so absolute.
You felt him close to you, and before you could react, he sat next to you on the bed, his arm around you with a comfort you hadn’t expected. There was something about the way he held you that made you relax, if only for a moment. “We’re the survivors, you know?” he said softly. “What we’ve done, what we’ve seen, what we’ve had to do to get here… all of that makes us who we are. And if you ever ask yourself the question of whether you did the right thing, I want you to remember that it was always about surviving.”
Your eyes filled with tears, not from weakness, but from the intensity of everything you felt. The weight of the decisions, the inevitability of the circumstances, and the fact that sometimes, the only thing left to do was to keep going, even if the burden was heavy.
“Thank you,” you said quietly, barely a whisper. You didn’t know what else to say.
The Pogues hadn’t weighed in, nor had you asked them to. They had seen what you did, they knew. The truth was that at that moment, no one dared to judge, because everyone knew that in those kinds of situations, life or death wasn’t always in your hands. You had done what was necessary, what instinct told you to do to protect yourself, but still, you couldn’t escape what had happened.
Rafe lay down beside you, his presence giving you the space to breathe, to rest, to not think so much about how irreversible it had been. “It’s done,” he said, unhurriedly, without pressure. “Now, all that’s left is to move on.”
Little by little, you felt the weight lighten, although it didn’t disappear completely.
After that, you had recovered quickly. The guilt, confusion, and restlessness you felt after what had happened slowly faded away. It wasn’t easy, but you knew you couldn’t stay stuck in that moment. Time was still ticking, and you had to move on.
What really helped you recover so quickly was the conversation with your father. Even though things between you hadn’t always been easy, hearing his voice on the other end of the line gave you the calm you needed. You told him what had happened, what you had had to do to defend yourself. You didn’t go into all the details, but you did tell him the gist. The silence on the other end of the line lasted a few seconds before you heard his voice, firm and calm.
“I’m proud of you,” he told you, and those words resonated with you more than you imagined. “You did what you had to do. There are no regrets that are going to change what happened. You’re my daughter, and I will always be your biggest support.”
Something in his voice, in those simple yet powerful words, made you feel like everything you had done was, in some way, justified. You had done the right thing, even if it wasn’t easy to accept. What you needed most at that moment was his support, and hearing those words from him gave you the strength to let go of the guilt. You reminded yourself that you had acted in self-defense, that you had done it to survive. It helped you regain control of your thoughts, to not get caught up in what had happened.
“Thank you, Dad,” you said, the words coming out with a calmness you didn’t know you had. “I really needed to hear that.”
When you hung up, you felt different. You knew the weight of what had happened wouldn’t go away completely, but something inside you had changed. Your father’s approval, his pride in what you had done, gave you a push to keep going without looking back. You didn’t want to stay stuck in guilt.
When Rafe saw you calmer, more focused, he asked if everything was okay. “It seems like something has changed,” he said, watching intently.
“Yeah,” you answered, a small smile creeping onto your face. “My father talked to me, I feel… good. More at peace, I guess.”
Rafe looked at you for a moment before nodding, as if he understood what that meant to you. He didn’t say anything else, knowing you didn’t need any more words at that moment. Your father’s had been enough. Now, you could move on.
In one of those calls with your father, which Rafe knew nothing about, you learned something that left you paralyzed. Sofia had betrayed Rafe. The news hit you like a blow, every word from your father reverberating in your mind.
Your father, as always, recounted the events with a calm that only he could maintain. He didn't go into unnecessary details, but he made the essentials clear: Sofia had betrayed Rafe. This was more than just disloyalty; it was an act that put not only Rafe at risk, but you and everyone else's as well.
The knowledge hit you hard, a mix of fury and pain that you tried to hold back. You couldn't help but feel protective of Rafe, despite how complicated their relationship had been in the past and still was. Watching him go through another betrayal, especially one this deep, made you question whether you should tell him or keep quiet for a while longer.
You decided not to tell him. Sofia's betrayal was a bomb that could make him explode and you didn't need that now. That night, Rafe was sitting on the edge of the bed, his profile silhouetted against the dim light of the room. His eyes settled on you with a softness you didn't see often.
“Are you okay?” His voice broke the silence, direct but with a hint of concern that he rarely showed. “You’ve been tense all night.”
Your heart raced a little, but you tried to stay calm. You had rehearsed in your mind over and over how to evade his questions without raising suspicion. You gave him a tired smile, one that you hoped was convincing enough.
“I’m just tired,” you replied, and though it sounded almost believable, you noticed his blue eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were trying to read past your words. Rafe was observant, and the thought that he could tell the lie made your throat go dry.
There was a moment of tense silence, where neither of you said anything. Finally, he relaxed a little and stood up to approach you. “Let’s rest then,” he murmured, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you towards the bed. You let yourself be led, relieved that he didn’t press any further.
You kicked off your shoes and slipped under the sheets, feeling the coolness of the fabric against your tired skin. Rafe did the same, moving beside you with familiar movements. The bed, though not the most comfortable, was a refuge at the moment.
When he turned off the lamp, the room was plunged into darkness, and the sounds of the night in the Moroccan city remained as a soft backdrop. You felt his body close to yours, the warmth emanating from it comforting.
You turned slightly, turning your back to him as you tried to calm your breathing and quiet the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind. However, Rafe, in his silent and protective way, noticed your uneasiness and moved closer. His arm went around your waist and pulled you towards him, pressing your back against his chest. The contact, so natural and comforting, made your worries fade away for a moment. You felt his warm breath against your hair, and a barely audible whisper escaped his lips.
“Whatever you’re worried about, we’ll take care of it,” he murmured sleepily, as if the words were an involuntary reflection of his thoughts.
You closed your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn't know how long you could keep the secret, but that night, at least, you decided to hold on to the feeling of being safe in his arms. You responded to the hug, settling in a little more and allowing yourself a moment of peace.
Slowly, tiredness overcame anxiety, and you both fell asleep.
It wasn’t long before the truth came out. Rafe was cunning, too cunning, and even though you had done your best to keep it a secret, the built-up tension and the little clues you missed had him starting to put two and two together.
It was one afternoon, as the two of you were going over some notes at a makeshift table, when everything exploded. Rafe was focused on the papers in front of him, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched. There was something about his posture that made you feel a twinge of unease. Without looking up, he murmured, “Is there something you want to tell me?”
The seemingly casual question made you stop dead in your tracks. You knew he could read the subtleties, the changes in your behavior, and you understood in that instant that he already suspected something. You tried to keep your composure, keeping your expression from giving you away.
“What do you mean?” You asked, your tone trying to sound carefree, but the slight hesitation in your voice made him raise his head. His blue eyes caught you, cold and calculating, searching for answers.
“You know, right?” His voice was low, controlled, but charged with an intensity that made the room seem smaller. “About Sofia.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You didn’t need to answer; he already knew. The tension in his body turned into suppressed fury, and he slammed a fist on the table, causing papers to fly and some objects to fall to the floor.
“Since when?” he exclaimed, taking a step towards you. There was no physical aggression in his gesture, but the energy he emanated was enough to make you back off. “Since when did you know and decide not to tell me?”
“Rafe, I… I did it for you.” The words came out in a rush, clumsy and full of guilt. “I didn’t want to ruin what little you had. I thought it wasn’t the time…”
“The time?” His laugh was dry, humorless. “All this time I’ve been struggling, trusting someone who betrayed me, and you knew it! What kind of support is that?”
The hurt in his words was evident. You knew his trust, something so fragile and complicated, had been shattered once again, and this time, you were part of the reason. You tried to get closer, reach out to touch his arm, but he pulled away, as if your touch burned.
“Rafe, it wasn’t easy for me. I wanted to protect you.”
“You don’t need to protect me. I need you to be honest with me. I need you to tell me if you know something that affects me. How am I supposed to trust you now?”
The question cut through you like a blade. The pain in his voice, mixed with rage and disappointment, left you speechless. There was no justification enough to calm him down. All you could do was watch as the distance between you grew larger, deeper.
Finally, Rafe stepped back, putting a hand to his head and sighing in frustration. “This isn’t going to work,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He looked at you one last time, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher, and before you could stop him, he turned and walked out the door.
You knew Rafe better than anyone. You knew that when things got tough, he tended to walk away, to hide from everyone. You set off, visiting several places. But in all those places, the answer was the same: nothing.
The heat of Morocco stifled you, sweat running down your forehead, and anxiety made the air feel thicker. Still, you didn’t stop. You asked around in shops and at street vendors, and though a few curious glances and vague answers tried to calm your search, nothing was enough.
You decided to go check on the boys. If anyone might know something, they would have at least a lead. When you arrived, you found them gathered in a corner of a coffee shop with the windows fogged up from the heat. The atmosphere of the room, normally filled with humor, felt different when you entered. John B was the first to notice you, and his expression hardened at the sight of your countenance.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows furrowed in concern.
“Have you seen Rafe?” The question came out in a tone you couldn’t soften. Your voice, cracked with urgency, had everyone exchanging quick glances.
Sarah, who was sitting next to Kiara, looked away, uncomfortable with the subject. “No, I haven’t seen him since… since yesterday,” she admitted, her voice barely a murmur.
Pope, who had been quiet, nodded. “No one’s seen him. I thought he was with you.”
There was no sign of him, not a trace, not a word. You left the café before anyone could say anything else, frustration and worry fighting for control of your thoughts.
You were so focused on finding Rafe that concern for your own safety took a backseat. The city, with its narrow streets and maze of passages, had become a space where every shadow seemed to lengthen, and every sound multiplied into echoes. But you were so absorbed in your thoughts, so consumed by guilt and the need to find him, that you didn't notice what was happening around you.
The murmur of voices, the soft creaking of footsteps behind you, began so subtly that you barely noticed. The night was thick, the heat and sweat clinging to your skin, making you feel more tired than you were. As you walked down a dimly lit street, the streetlights cast your shadow against the walls of the buildings, a long, lonely silhouette.
It was only when you turned a corner into a darker alley that a cold sensation ran down your spine. A sixth sense warned you that something wasn't right. You paused for a moment, listening to the silence that seemed to breathe around you. You weren't alone. Confirmation came the instant you took a step back and felt a hand grab you tightly by the arm.
You tried to get away, your first instinct was to fight, but you didn't have time to react. Another hand landed on your mouth, stifling the scream that choked in your throat. Three men surrounded you, their faces barely visible under the shadows of their hoods. One of them spoke to you in a low, threatening tone, in a language you barely recognized, but the message was clear: you weren't to resist.
They pushed you forward, forcing you to walk as your senses went to full blast. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, making you tremble with rage and fear at the same time. You tried to observe, to memorize details, anything that might help you escape later: the tattoo on the neck of the man holding you, the smell of tobacco and sweat, the way they clenched their fists. But they were experts; there was no room for error.
The ride was short, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, they bundled you into a car, dark and dusty, and tied your hands with rough rope that bit into your skin. You felt the engine roar and the car jerk as it started, taking you away from familiar streets, away from any chance of help. You tried to stay calm, to control your breathing and not let fear paralyze you.
In the dim light of the car, one of the men spoke to the driver in a low tone, while another watched you closely, his piercing gaze searching for any sign of defiance. The city lights faded, and the landscape grew more arid, more lonely, with each passing mile. The idea that you were being taken to an unknown place, with no one knowing where you were, hit you with the force of a wave.
What followed after that car ride was even more disconcerting. You were taken to an abandoned building, with weathered stone walls and broken windows that let in the dry night air. You were pushed inside, your feet stumbling over the threshold, and you fell to your knees on the dusty floor. You tried to get up, but one of the men's rough hands pushed you back down.
The space was large and dark, lit only by a dim light filtering in from a hanging lamp in the center. The men began talking to each other, their deep, rapid voices filling the room, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. The language barrier made you feel even more vulnerable, like you were in a tunnel you couldn’t get out of. You tried to catch some word you recognized, something that would give you a clue as to their intent, but it was in vain. Desperation began to set in, digging into your chest like a thorn.
As they argued, you took a moment to assess your situation. The ropes binding your hands were strong, but if you could find a weak spot, maybe you could break free. You watched the men’s faces carefully, trying to remember details: the eye patch on one, the scar on another’s cheek, the golden ring glinting on the third’s finger. But they showed no sign of empathy or doubt. Their cold, calculating gazes were diverted from you as if you were just an object, a pawn in their unknown game.
Far away from there, Rafe had returned to the place where they both stayed. The air in the room still smelled of you, a persistent memory that he tried to ignore as he moved through the space with firm steps. The rage and pain from the previous fight still burned inside him, and he repeated over and over what he had said, what you had said. However, not seeing you when he arrived, a subtle echo of worry tried to make its way into his mind. He dismissed it at first, convinced that, like him, you had only gone for a walk.
Rafe let himself fall into bed, closing his eyes as the night progressed. Dawn arrived, and with it a restlessness that he could no longer ignore. When he got up, he noticed that your side of the bed was still empty. He searched the small house for you, checking the kitchen, the makeshift living room, even the terrace where you sometimes sat to think. Nothing.
The initial annoyance turned into a shadow of fear that led him to look for the others. He headed to the place where the Pogues usually met, and found them having breakfast with tired and sleepy faces. John B looked up and saw Rafe approaching, his eyes reflecting the surprise of seeing him there so early.
“Have you seen Y/n?” Rafe asked, without preamble. His tone was firm, but there was a crack of anxiety that he couldn’t hide.
The others’ gazes met for a second before Pope answered, frowning. “No, not since last night, when she came to ask us if we had seen you.”
Rafe’s heart beat faster. Worry became a tangible weight, and he felt guilt begin to sink into him. You had been looking for him, and he, blinded by his anger, had done nothing for you. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply as he tried to remain calm.
“What happened, Rafe?” Sarah asked, her eyes searching his face for answers.
Rafe gritted his teeth, his jaw set with tension. “I don’t know… but I have to find her.”
Back at the place where they had you held, the men had begun to lose patience. One of them approached you, his gaze icy as he examined you from head to toe. You tried to remain calm, even as the man crouched down to your level and issued a threat in broken, rough English. His words were fragmented, but you understood enough to know he was trying to intimidate you.
“Don’t move. Don’t… scream,” he said, his accent thick. “If you do, it will be worse for you.”
You tried to keep a neutral expression, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking, still bound tightly behind you. You tried not to make eye contact, knowing that any show of fear could only make the situation worse. However, he seemed to be enjoying your discomfort, a crooked, cocky grin on his face.
Just when you thought the situation couldn’t get any worse, another man entered the room. There was something about his bearing, the way the others looked at him, that suggested he was in charge. His clothes were neater, his posture more relaxed, but his eyes held a coldness that made your skin crawl.
He approached slowly, and as he stopped in front of you, you noticed that he spoke much clearer and more fluent English.
“Forgive my men,” he said in a calm but firm voice. “They don’t usually deal with foreigners, especially not a woman who butts into matters that don’t concern her.”
You tried to compose your expression, looking at the man firmly, although inside you felt how each word of his intensified the weight of your situation.
“What… what do they want?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, but clear enough to show that you still had some control left.
He smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s up to you,” he replied, lacing their fingers together calmly. “We’re looking for something, and we think you might be able to help us find it… or at least lead us to the people who could.”
Your mind began to work quickly, trying to connect the pieces. You knew that your arrival in Morocco with Rafe and the search for the Blue Crown hadn’t gone unnoticed, but still, the speed with which you’d been found, threatened, and now interrogated caught you completely off guard.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to say, but your voice betrayed a slight hesitation, and he noticed it.
“Don’t play naive. We know what you’re looking for… we know what you want. So, I’m going to make it easy for you,” he said as he leaned a little closer, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “You give us what we want, or you’ll see how things can get worse.”
You felt a knot in your stomach, each second growing more terrifying. You knew your only option was to hold on and buy time.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the frantic drumming of your heart as the man in front of you watched you with unsettling patience. You tried to keep your composure and buy time, knowing that each passing second increased the chances of someone, somehow, finding out where you were.
“What they’re looking for isn’t so easy to find,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. “Even we’ve had trouble following the right leads.”
The man cocked his head, evaluating your words. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to read between the lines. “We’ll see about that. I hope you have more to say when we speak again.”
As he retreated, leaving you alone for a moment, you tried to move subtly, searching for any hint that you could loosen the ropes holding you prisoner. Your wrists were sore, but you ignored the pain, focusing on the simple act of resisting.
Far away, Rafe was in a constant state of agitation. He had spent the morning searching for clues, moving quickly between contacts and temporary allies who might be able to offer him some information. Every second that passed without seeing you increased his worry, and though he tried not to let guilt take over, his mind kept replaying the moment he realized you had disappeared.
“Did you see her last night?” he asked for the umpteenth time to one of the contacts he had managed to track down. The man, a local merchant with connections in the underworld, shook his head, his eyes watching Rafe with measured interest.
“I heard there was some activity in the old part of town,” he finally answered after a pause. “Someone brought a girl, but I don’t know who they are or what they’re looking for.”
Rafe clenched his jaw, feeling a mix of frustration and renewed hope. It wasn’t enough information, but it was a start. With a quick “Thank you,” he walked away, his mind already calculating the next move, thinking about how to get to that part of town without raising suspicion.
Rafe didn’t stop until he found more answers. He had navigated through dark alleys, bustling markets, and bars where curious eyes followed his every move all day long. The night in Morocco brought with it a thick air, and Rafe knew how to play in that environment.
With a handful of bills and a steady gaze, he approached a group of men moving like shadows on a dimly lit corner. After a few words of exchange and the handing over of money, one of them, a young man with scars on his face, finally spoke.
“The girl was taken to a warehouse near the old part of town, where the houses are crowded together and the streets are like a maze,” he said, his accent thick. “I don’t know much else, but those who have her aren’t known for being kind.”
Rafe nodded, absorbing the information and processing it quickly. The gears in his mind were working tirelessly, calculating routes and strategies. He now knew who had taken you, and most importantly, where you were. Getting to you wouldn’t be easy, but for him, it would be a piece of cake compared to the idea of losing you.
Rafe just nodded before turning away, already focused on what would come next. He knew he needed to act quickly and precisely. He imagined you in that moment, alone and scared, and the fire inside him grew more alive.
In your dark corner, the minutes passed with unbearable slowness. The distant sound of footsteps and murmurs kept you alert, your mind working on every possible way to resist and endure.
In the two days you were held, time became an endless torture. You were given nothing but a few drops of water, and hunger made you feel weak, almost ghostly. Your thoughts were intertwined between worry for your safety and the persistent question of whether Rafe and the others were looking for you. The blindfold kept you in constant darkness, increasing the fear and feeling of isolation. Every noise around you was a reminder that you were not alone, but neither were you in good hands.
The voices of your captors echoed through the space like menacing echoes, their words in a language you did not understand. You tried to stay conscious, clinging to hope and the idea that this would end soon, somehow. Your body was exhausted, every muscle shaking from the effort of staying alert, every breath weaker than the last.
As night fell on the third day, the air was filled with a distinct murmur, a whisper that slowly turned into screams and the rumble of combat. The sound of doors breaking, banging, and gunshots made you turn around in desperation, even with the blindfold tight over your eyes. Your breathing quickened, and a cold fear ran through your body.
Time seemed to stop as everything fell silent. You could hear the frantic beat of your heart as you waited, vulnerable and alone in the darkness. Suddenly, you felt firm, familiar hands on your shoulders, and the pressure of the blindfold loosened. The cloth fell from your eyes, and the light, though dim, made you squint. In front of you, Rafe looked at you with a mix of relief and desperation, his blue eyes shining brightly.
“Rafe...” you whispered, a weak smile forming on your lips. He wasted no time; He quickly untied your wrists, and before you could make any move, he lifted you into his arms, not asking if you had the strength to walk.
You looked around as he carried you out of the place, and your eyes landed on one of the men lying on the ground, motionless. Blood pooled around him, and the question left your mouth before you could stop it. “Did you kill him?”
Rafe didn’t stop looking at you as he answered, his voice low and full of a certainty that chilled your blood and made you feel safe at the same time. “I’ll do anything for you, do you understand?” His tone left no room for doubt, and although his words were harsh, something in them made you feel protected, as if, despite everything, you were safe in his arms.
The world began to spin around you, the strength finally leaving your body after days of suffering. The last image you saw was Rafe's face, a mix of determination and fear in his eyes, before darkness enveloped you and everything faded away.
Hours later, the first thing you felt was the soft rustle of the sheets. Your eyelids were heavy as if you had slept for days, but you finally managed to open your eyes and see the ceiling of an unfamiliar room, illuminated by the morning rays. Turning your head, you saw him: Rafe, sitting in a chair next to the bed, his face covered by a mixture of tiredness and relief.
As soon as he noticed that you had woken up, his eyes lit up and he quickly stood up, approaching you. His fingers brushed your cheek, as if he wanted to make sure that you were really there, awake and alive. “I worried about you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and sincere. There was something in his words that carried all the weight of the last few days, of anguish and guilt.
The silence that followed was heavy, but you couldn’t help it. “Rafe, I’m sorry… about Sofia.” Your words were a whisper. His expression changed slightly, his eyes darkening momentarily before he shook his head.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he replied, a slight smile trying to ease the tension. The seriousness faded a bit when, with a soft laugh, he added, “You need to take a bath. You seem… well, you’ve been through a lot.”
You let out a weak laugh, agreeing with him with a look. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been worse in my life.” Your body felt heavy, muscles still sore from the lack of food and water, but you knew you needed to get up. “Help me, please. I need to get to the water.”
Rafe nodded without hesitation and put an arm around your waist, helping you stand carefully. Your legs shook at first, but with his support, you managed to stay upright. He slowly carried you to the other side of the room, where a tub of hot, steaming water awaited.
“You can go if you want,” you whispered, not looking at him directly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. But he shook his head, a lopsided smile appearing on his face.
“No, I’m staying,” he replied, and without adding anything else, he began to help you undress. His hands moved carefully, as if he were afraid of hurting you. When you finally submerged yourself in the water, a sigh escaped your lips as you felt the relief of the heat enveloping your battered body.
Rafe knelt at the edge of the tub and, with a damp cloth, began to gently run the water over your arms and shoulders. You couldn’t help but look at him, the attention and delicacy in his movements contrasting with the intensity of his gaze. Suddenly, he made a comment that made you smile, a joke about how no one would believe it if they knew he was taking care of someone this way. You laughed, even if it was weakly, and responded with something equally sarcastic.
His eyes met yours, more serious this time. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, not looking away. The air grew thick between you, and you felt the warmth of the water mix with the blush on your skin. “I told you once not to say it,” you said quietly, looking away.
“Why not?” he asked, and before you could answer, he took your hand, the same one he had been cleaning, and pulled you close to him, carefully encircling you. He leaned in and kissed you, a gesture that was gentle at first, almost a test, but soon became deeper, as if he wanted to make sure you felt what he felt.
You stood there, letting yourself be carried away by the warmth of his lips and the safety of his arms. For a moment, everything that had happened, all the hurts, faded away, leaving only the certainty that, in the midst of so much chaos, you had each other.
Once the bath was over and you felt clean for the first time in days, the tiredness seemed to fade a little, giving way to a sense of calm that you had almost forgotten existed. You put on a light white linen dress, which softly caressed your skin and made you feel freer and lighter. Rafe had left the room for a moment to give you space, but he returned shortly after, his eyes scanning your figure with a mix of concern and something deeper, something you recognized instantly.
You settled on a chaise longue by the window, letting the soft evening breeze come in and caress your face. Rafe sat beside you, his presence comforting despite everything that had happened between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke; you simply stayed silent, sharing a breath of peace that you both needed.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, breaking the calm with a low voice that was almost lost in the sound of the wind. There was a note of anxiety in his words, as if he feared the answer.
“Better,” you said with a soft smile, tilting your head towards him. “Thanks to you.” You didn’t add anything else, because you knew he understood everything those words meant. What he had done for you, what he had risked, was something you would never forget.
Rafe nodded, a shadow of a smile appearing on his lips before he reached out and gently caressed your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. His eyes were a sea of conflicting emotions: relief, remorse, affection.
He laid down beside you, and without thinking too much, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting a sigh escape your lips.
The silence in the room stretched on for a while longer, only broken by the soft whisper of the wind. You stared at the shadows cast by the sunset on the walls, trying to process everything that had happened in the past few days. Finally, you broke the silence with a question that had been burning on your tongue since you woke up.
“What happened to the men?” His words were slow in coming, as if he was carefully choosing what he was going to tell you.
“I took care of them,” Rafe said, his voice deep and firm. There was no room for doubt in his tone, but no trace of remorse either. “Your father… helped make any problems they might represent disappear.” There was a glint in his eyes at the mention of it.
You nodded slowly, letting the information settle in your mind. You knew what it meant when your father got involved; there were no loose ends, no mistakes.
Rafe seemed to pick up on your silence and let the words trail off, not forcing the conversation.
Rafe took care of you in a way you hadn’t expected. He made sure that every meal arrived to you on time, insisting that you eat and drink enough to regain your strength. Although you sometimes gently argued that you could get up and help in the search, he always answered you with the same firmness: “Leave it to me. I promise you that everything will be fine.”
The determination in his eyes and the conviction in his voice were enough to make you believe him. So, for the first time in a long time, you decided to let yourself go and do what he asked of you. You ate every dish he brought you, even if the appetite was not always present, and little by little you began to notice how your body regained its lost strength. Now you needed to eat more than before.
Meanwhile, Rafe moved around the house and the town like a ghost, always searching, always planning. Although you knew that the situation was much more complicated than he told you, you believed him. His confident and protective gaze left no room for doubt.
Your mind, which had been stuck in a constant state of alert, finally allowed itself a respite.
That same night everything was quiet, with a starry sky stretching out over the outskirts where everyone had gathered. The lights of the lanterns hanging in the trees and the crackling of the campfire provided a comforting warmth amidst the cool of the night. It was rare to find a moment of peace, and everyone appreciated it in their own way, laughing and sharing stories around the fire.
You were sitting next to Rafe, your gaze lost in the dancing and crackling flames. The boys were talking amongst themselves; JJ was dramatically telling an anecdote about one of his recent escapades, causing Kie to laugh and throw him a twig in mockery. John B, who was a little further away, was watching Sarah with an expression of complicity and tenderness.
Sarah stood up and ran a hand through her hair, a mix of nervousness and determination. Her eyes met yours, and for a moment, you wondered what she was going to say.
“Guys, there’s something I need to tell you,” she began, and immediately the attention was drawn to her. The conversation died down, leaving only the sound of sparks from the campfire and crickets in the distance. Kie and John B exchanged a look, knowing what was coming, while JJ and Pope seemed surprised by Sarah’s serious tone.
“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, her voice barely shaking, but firm enough to be heard by everyone. There was a moment of complete silence, and then JJ let out a low whistle as a smile appeared on his face. Pope blinked a few times, processing the news, and then smiled widely.
You stood up and walked over to Sarah. Although your relationship with her hadn’t always been easy, at that moment you only felt sincerity in your words. “Even though we never got along as well as we’d like, I’m happy for you,” you said, looking into her eyes. “You’re going to be a good mother, I know it.”
Sarah looked at you with a mix of surprise and suppressed excitement before nodding and giving you a small hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, her smile reflecting both gratitude and relief.
Rafe, who had been silently watching the scene from where he stood, merely smiled sideways and nodded slowly, in a sort of silent approval that Sarah immediately picked up on. Their eyes met, and in that gaze they shared an understanding that only siblings could have. Sarah seemed to understand him and smiled back, softer, more sincere.
The night continued with a different energy. JJ joked about how they were going to teach the baby to sail before he could walk, which caused general laughter. Kie offered to make her a small seashell pendant for when she was born, and Pope said he would teach her to solve puzzles and understand ancient maps.
Rafe came up to you and put his arm around your back. “This is going to be interesting,” he murmured, a barely perceptible smile on his lips. You smiled back, feeling the warmth of his touch.
Several hours had passed since Sarah’s announcement. The atmosphere was still light, with a calm that was rarely present among everyone. Laughter and stories continued as the flames of the fire slowly dwindled. You and Rafe, feeling the need to be alone, decided to retire before the others. Night enveloped the outskirts in a blanket of tranquility, and the walk back was silent, accompanied by the crunch of grass underfoot.
The next morning, the heat was overwhelming, and every movement seemed to require double the effort. You got up to find Rafe sitting near the window, lost in his thoughts. Her jaw was set, her eyes fixed on the horizon as if searching for answers in the distance. You knew she had been dealing with something since your kidnapping, something she hadn’t wanted to share, and you couldn’t help but feel the awkwardness hanging in the air.
That same day, when everyone gathered under the shade to escape the scorching sun, Sarah suddenly paled and swayed a little. John B quickly grabbed her, concern evident on his face.
“I’m fine, just a little dizzy,” she murmured, but everyone knew she needed more than fresh air.
JJ rummaged through the backpack and pulled out a half-beaten apple. “It’s the only thing there is, but it’s better than nothing,” he said, offering it to her. Sarah accepted it with a weak smile, biting slowly as John B looked at her with a mix of love and concern.
Rafe watched the scene with the same distant expression, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. JJ, unable to contain his annoyance, uttered an acidic comment: “What’s the point of all your money if you can’t even help your sister with some decent food?” The tension cut like a knife, and Rafe, without a word, abruptly stood up and began to walk away.
You looked at Sarah, who was avoiding her brother’s gaze. Driven by an instinct you didn’t even fully understand, you approached her and pulled a wad of bills from your bag. You placed it in her hands with a gentle gesture. “It’s for you to buy food, Sarah. You need to feed yourself well in your condition,” you said in a low but firm voice. John B looked at you, surprised and grateful in equal parts.
“Thanks,” he murmured, as Sarah gave you a genuine smile. “Seriously, thanks.”
Without saying anything else, you walked away in the direction where Rafe had gone. You found him at a makeshift market, where a few local vendors had gathered. He was standing in front of a stall, buying a basic-looking cell phone and other necessary items. You watched as he held the phone out, dialing a number and bringing it to his ear with a grim expression.
“Is it true?” he said, his voice filled with suppressed fury. “After everything I did for you… you betrayed me? Is it true?” There was a pause, with only the bustle of the market and your labored breathing to be heard. Then, in an icy tone of voice, he added, “Get your stuff out of my damn house. We’re done.”
He cut the call and stood still, tension drawn in every line of his body. You hesitated for a moment, but eventually approached. Just when it seemed like he was going to reject you, you noticed how his gaze softened at the sight of you. His lips moved, wanting to say something, but he only managed to murmur, “We have things to do.”
You had lost track of time since you had left that market following in Rafe’s footsteps. The hot afternoon breeze hit your face as you tried to keep up with him, not really knowing where he was taking you. One problem more or one less, you thought, it didn’t matter anymore. They walked through labyrinthine streets and narrow alleys, the echo of their footsteps resonating between the adobe walls. There was a latent tension in the air, something that made you lock your gaze on Rafe’s back, watching the stiffness of his shoulders and the way his hands clenched into fists.
Without warning, a group of men stepped out of the shadows. You recognized one of them, someone Rafe had had problems with before. It all happened so fast, the exchange of words was brief before the fists started flying. Rafe fiercely fought as if his life depended on it. You, without thinking, took a few steps back, your heart pounding, searching for something to defend yourself with in case it was necessary.
The noise of the fight filled the narrow street, screams, the thud of fists, the sound of a body hitting a wall. Rafe won, as always. He never lost. When the last man fell to the ground, panting and cursing in his native tongue, Rafe turned to you, his face and knuckles marked by cuts and bruises.
Without saying a word, you took his arm and led him to a more secluded corner, your hands already shaking as you searched for a clean tissue in your bag. “Let me help you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper as you gently pressed a wound on his eyebrow. Blood dripped from it, tracing a trail down his cheek.
He watched you in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he broke the silence, “You know, I should have known from the beginning. I should have chosen you… you never betrayed me.” His words, laden with a sincerity he rarely showed, made your hands freeze for a moment.
You sighed, removing the tissue and looking at him with a mix of sadness and resignation. “It’s too late, Rafe. There are bigger things at stake now than choices of partner.”
He shook his head, a hint of desperation flashing in his eyes. “It’s not too late. I can choose you… if you let me.”
You felt your heart pounding against your ribs. You looked up at him, searching for any hint of doubt in his expression, but all you saw was determination. “Only if you get Sofia out of your life for good,” you warned, your tone more serious than you had planned. “Or I will kill her myself.”
A dark smile curved his lips, and he nodded, moving closer to you. “I know you would,” he whispered, before pulling your body into his. His lips sought yours, and the kiss was everything you had held back for so long. It was intense, passionate, a silent promise of all that could be and all that had been.
When he pulled back just a little, he tilted his head and whispered in your ear, “Future Mrs. Cameron.”
A shiver ran down your spine. Because, even though everything had been chaos, even though the decisions had been erratic and the wounds were still fresh, deep down in your heart, you hoped to be that: the future Mrs. Cameron. Because after all, you were expecting his child, and he, although he didn't know it yet, was already part of that future that you had begun to secretly imagine.
#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe x reader#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fic#obx4#obx x reader
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At Least One Of Us Got Our Happy Ending
: Part 15 (Lando's Version)
: Spring Fling is finally here…that’s a good thing right?
: Prev | Next
: Series Masterlist
: Main Masterlist
: Author's Note - You can refer to Interesting *Cue Evil Laugh* to get the context for a certain part.
…
As Y/n and Lando watched Oscar pull his girl in for a kiss, she couldn't help but join some of their friends in hooting for the new couple. It was nice to see Oscar finally be with the girl he'd madly been head-over-heels for—Y/n could recall countless conversations they'd had about this. Smiling at the scene, she felt Lando pull her close to him, his hand resting on her waist.
"Should we get back to the table?" Asked Lando
Looking away from the scene in front of her, Y/n nodded at him and started leading him to their table.
There sat Max, one of Lando's friends who he constantly played games with, and his date.
Taking a seat, Y/n said, "It's so nice to see Oscar finally be happy."
"It is! I'm glad he came today," Lando said, looking at Oscar.
Max laughed to himself, leaning back against the chair he said, "I guess it's nice when things work out the way they're supposed to, huh?" He said, looking at Lando.
Lando narrowed his eyes at Max, "Max..." He said in a warning tone.
Confused by the exchange Y/n asked, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"
Max shrugged casually, taking a sip from the flask he had snuck in, "Oh, it's just funny how it all started you know? I just didn't think you guys would actually make it," Max finished.
Lando could feel his heart beating faster, "Max," He said again this time with hint of anger.
Y/n couldn't help but tense up, looking between Lando and Max. "What does he mean by 'How it started' Lando?" She asked.
"Oh nothing, you know how I am, I love to talk nonsense," Max said realizing that he might have said a little too much.
"Lando...What does he mean by that?" Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando sighed deeply, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. He felt angry—angry at Max for opening his mouth when it was not needed, angry at himself for agreeing to do such a stupid thing.
"Y/n..." He started, his voice hesitant. Reaching out for her hand, he said, "It wasn't supposed to mean anything...I had no idea that I would actually fall in love..." He said. He could see the dread wash over Y/n's eyes.
*flashback*
*present*
Y/n felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. All hope and dreams for an amazing night disappeared in an instant. She sat there in silence as she let Lando's words sink in.
"So I was just a 'Dare'?" She asked, still in disbelief.
Lando avoided her gaze, his throat feeling dry. "I—I never imagined that it would turn into this," He said. "At first, it was just a stupid dare, I was just angry about the complaint, but I never thought that..." Lando's voice trailed off. He was not sure what he could say or do to make any of it sound better.
Y/n could feel her eyes sting with tears, "So does that mean all this time, every single conversation we've had, every single moment we've spent together...It was all just a game to you?" Y/n said as tears trickled down her face.
"No!," Lando said suddenly, a little too loud for his liking. He tried to reach out for her hand, but she pulled away, "I didn't mean for it to be like that. It was just a dare at the start, I admit, but the more time I spent with you, the more I realized that I just couldn't continue. I was going to tell you, I swear Y/n," Lando said. "I just didn't know how...." He trailed off again.
"So if you hadn't "fallen in love" with me, would you have still gone through with your plan?" Y/n asked, her voice a mixture of anger and hurt.
Lando opened his mouth but no words came out. He didn't have an answer. Deep down, he knew that no answer would make things right. The damage had already been done.
Y/n stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Congrats!" She spat, her voice filled with bitterness. "You've won your stupid dare. I really hope it was worth it Lando," she said as she started walking towards the exit.
"Y/n please wait!" Lando pleaded.
"NO!" Y/n said, finally letting go of the emotions she had been holding onto till now. "Don't you dare follow me. You've lost the right to do that," she said, her voice cracking at the end.
And with that, she made her way out of the hall, taking Lando's heart with every step she took.
…
Tags: @regalbanshee | @be-your-coffee-pot | @mrsbrxkkxr | @princessria127 | @moonraysandstars | @prettiest-at-the-party | @theblueblub | @magixpracticality | @slytherinholland | @overlyexcitedoutlaw | @marvel-at-stucky | @crumbssss | @a-beaverhausen | @felicityforyou | @gigigreens | @jas0nluvr | @khaylin27 | @imsiriuslyreal | @cwiphswmwasohmm | @wobblymug | @e-nonsense | @raizelchrysanderoctavius | @papaya-twinks | @vintagefucksstuff | @st4rg1rln | @redstappen | @iamred-iamyellow | @tashisgf | @ghost-of-student-sufferings | @saachiep81 | @lozzamez3 | @ravisinghs-wife | @elizamoe133 | @anthonylockwoodandco111 | @formulaal | @luvsforme | @annabellelee | @a-disturbing-self-reflection | @emryb | @grovelingmen | @illicit-affcirs | @iwilleatyourgod | @youre-on-your-ownkid | @originaldreamerdragon | @landorris | @mountvesuvu | @chezmardybum | @littlegrapejuice | @spitesfvl-blog | @juleshadalittlelamb | @vicurious28 | @niyu2208 |
#f1#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 uni series#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris smau#lando norris angst#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#ln4 fluff#ln4 angst#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 x reader#writing#writers on tumblr
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I remember getting into a heated argument with him over this issue, actually. (Adding a cut because this went on longer than I intended)
I was struggling with a very condescending and belittling client for about five or so months and eventually what he (client) said got to me more than usual. I don't remember the exact comment, but it was something along the lines of "you force yourself to be perfect and yet you're never good enough." Needless to say, I was pretty devastated.
So anyway, I went to Lambad's, probably gave myself liver problems during the... four hours I was there, I think? Per usual, Lambad had to call Alhaitham to come pick me up because according to him I had drank so much I was talking to the chair across from me thinking it was Cyno. Why him, I don't know. Maybe because it was around that time that he was, contrary to popular belief, the first person in our friend group to figure out that I had a massive crush on him (I hate using such childish terms, though.)
I woke up the next afternoon with a searing hangover, and if anyone knows me, they know I get really, really cranky when I'm like that. I walked over to my desk and... this is embarrassing, but I threw everything off the desk in a fit of rage directed at the client, my inability to please clients, and myself. Haitham walked in thinking I had fallen out of bed and instead saw me breaking down. The conversation went something like this:
Him, standing in the doorway: "So, are you still drunk, or are you just unable to control your emotions even when sober?"
Me, sitting at the now-empty desk with head in hands: "Shut up. What does it matter to you, anyway?"
🌱: "Because one, you interrupted my downtime. Two, I heard your tantrum through my soundproof earpieces. And three, I had to see if I needed to have you pay for damages to the house."
🏛️: "Oh, boohoo. All you ever have to worry about is money this, annoyance that." (Why did I ever say that?)
🌱: "As if your career isn't drawing boxes and lines. You're the most famous architect in Sumeru yet you don't own your own home. How sad."
Then, for some stupid reason, I threw a pen at him and yelled, "You have no idea how hard I work every single day and every single night just trying to make the clients happy. But no, they go and tell me no matter how hard I work, I'll never be good enough! Then there's you, who makes a huge salary without ever hardly moving from your desk! So of course I'm angry. Of course I'm going to let it slip!"
🌱: "Well, do you believe them?"
🏛️: "What do you think?!"
I don't remember what he said after that, I just slammed the door and left. Then it started raining hard and he pretty much dragged me home. I asked why he even cared, and he said to use my brain. ("...or are you that dense?") Those were pretty much the conclusions I came to, except for the one about my father. @ags-haitham You did what?! /lh
He probably meant what he said in the best way, though. Either way, I'd rather have petty arguments like this than be without him at all.
"but what does he REALLY want with me?" my brooo, kaveh, Alhaitham does care about you just trust me, i'm the bedside lamp 😭
inspired by daikyto9
#i cancelled the commission after he said that#but kept the money#investments and advance payments and whatnot#it would have been a hassle to go through refunding him#and i deserved that much at least i think
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Reputation to uphold
Day 5: No need for poetry.
Summary: Hiding the letters is his first priorities.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 1368
Warnings: fluff, azzie being a shy baby 🥹
A/n: i loved writing this hehehe (i wrote most of this in 40 mins 💀)
@azrielappreciationweek
ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
"I missed this, mama." Hazel sighed, pulling away her cup of hot chocolate. Azriel smiled, looking over at his daughter, sitting next to his now son in law, Kaden.
What did I say? He was going to take away my daughter.
Y/n raised her brows. "It’s barely been a week since you’ve last had it."
Hazel grimaced. "Yeah, and his hot chocolate does not compare."
"Hey that’s mean!" Kaden sputtered, choking on his own drink.
"Yeah, stop being mean to my son."
Hazel rolled her eyes, turning to her father.
"Dad, come on, tell me a story." She had always been fond of listening to stories, and Az, wanting to make his daughter happy, had begun the new habit of telling stories every night.
Azriel glanced at his wife as she settled in next to him, warmth spreading in his chest. No matter how long they’d been married for, even just the sight of Y/n filled Azriel with happiness. Just as it had back when he had first seen her in the market, giggling with her friends over something.
"What do you want to hear about?"
Hazel leaned back, contemplating before perking up. "How you met mom and got married."
Azriel’s cheeks warmed, and he prayed his wife did not notice.
"Look dad, you’ve always said I was too young to know, but now I am even married. I want to know."
Azriel sighed, looking to his wife for help.
"Yeah Az, I wanna know the story too." Y/n grinned, not meeting his eyes.
Knowing he would not be allowed to leave without reliving his most embarrassing moments, he got comfortable in his chair.
"I saw her in the market one day. She was with her friends, and I instantly knew I was going to marry her one day."
She had been so ethereal, and she was in just a simple flowy dress. Her hair had been pinned out of her face, the breeze softly playing with the strands the way Azriel wished he could. Her smile, it could have brought him to his knees. And her sparkling eyes spoke of kindness far more louder than actions, the love and compassion for her fellow fae shining through every blink.
"Did you ever write her love letters and poetry?"
Azriel scoffed, focusing on the dark dregs at the bottom of his cup. "Me? I don’t have to resort to poetry."
Azriel felt his wife’s gaze on him, and he could picture her perfectly, sitting there, eyebrows raised in a are you sure about that? gesture.
"Yeah, he just ended up drowning in the river trying to impress me."
Azriel turned to glare at Y/n accusingly, who simply shrugged. "Now Az, lying is bad. Someone has to tell the truth."
Azriel grumbled, then again began. This time, truthfully. "Feyre needed some paint supplies from the market, and because I was free, I offered to get them for her."
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Azriel never thought he would ever ask someone for a romantic day out. After all, he never had to do that. He would just give females a glance and they would ask him to spend time with them themselves.
But this time, it was not happening. The female in the market square barely spared him a glance when he sidled up to her, pretending to look at all the brightly coloured pots on display at the stand she was giggling with her friends over.
"Y/n, that pot would look so good with your couch!"
Y/n. That name would certainly look good with Azriel’s name next to it.
"Yes Cindy, I’m going to cook on my couch."
Azriel smiled down at the pot in his hands, biting his cheek.
"It certainly is beautiful though." He mumbled, voice low so only Y/n could hear as her two other friends started bickering. He felt her stiffen before she glanced at him.
"That it is. But I don’t think I’m in need of more things."
Azriel swallowed, nodding. "You live near?"
Finally, he gathered the courage to meet her narrowed eyes. "Why do you ask?"
He smiled with a confidence he did not feel. "Where will I pick you up from for our dinner tomorrow then if you don’t tell me?"
She reared back as if his words had a physical impact on him.
"I- I’m sorry, I’m not interested."
Azriel blinked. But before he could say anything, she had grabbed her friends’ hands and dragged them away.
But from the slight blush on her face, he knew that he only needed to try and she would agree.
He bought the pot she had been eyeing so longingly just moments before, then hurried to go get the paints Feyre had asked for.
He was so sure he wouldn’t have to resort to poetry.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
The next day, Azriel was back at the market square, trying to figure out which direction she had gone. He had probably been wandering around aimlessly when he spotted the beautiful head of the lady he was so enthralled by.
"Hey. Pleasant day." He said as he fell in step beside the unsuspecting female.
She jumped, wide, frantic eyes meeting his own. Exasperation spread through her features as she realised it was him.
"You- what are you doing here?"
He shrugged, grinning as he held his gloved hand out. "I’m Azriel."
Her brows furrowed. She probably thought Azriel was loose in the head. "Y/n."
"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady."
She sighed. "Look, I’ve already told you I’m not interested."
"Why not?"
She paused. "I don’t like males who think they’re entitled to my time."
He nodded sagely. "Me neither. I hate people like that. But look at this like this, I want to get to know you. Maybe this could be something-"
She sighed. "No. Sorry."
Azriel’s palms turned sweaty. He had found her again, he did not want to let her go without getting something out of this. Even one evening of talking was enough. "I- I am the high lord’s shadowsinger."
Her gaze hardened. "Are you threatening me?"
His eyes widened. "No! I could never! I’m just trying…"
"Trying what?"
"To make you interested in me. It has worked before."
She rolled her eyes. "I don’t like males who try to entice me by stating their high powers."
Panic seized Azriel. This was going very wrong very quickly, and he did not like it one bit.
"I did not mean it that way-"
"Really, sir, I do not care what you meant and what you didn’t. Just leave me alone."
Azriel was left gaping after her, breathing heavy.
Fuck.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Azriel balled up another paper, throwing it behind him before clutching his head.
He had decided that being arrogant and trying to keep up his records of never having to resort to poetry would not help him.
Your eyes like the sun,Shining so beautiful,Your hair like waterfall,You-
Was Azriel truly so bad at poetry?
He was doomed.
She wouldn’t give him the time of day, evident by her refusal to even acknowledge him the three times he had tried to interact with her after that day at the market, and he was losing hope. He had sent countless letters and poems already to her house through his shadows, and he still had received no response.
Maybe he was well and truly doomed.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
"You know, I still have all those letters and poems."
Azriel’s head whipped to look at his wife, eyes wide. "Why?"
She shrugged, getting up from the couch and taking the cup from Hazel and kaden, both who grinned unabashedly.
"You think I would burn or throw away letters of desperation sent by the spymaster?" Y/n snorted. "Let me get them for you, children."
"No!" Azriel semi-yelled, shooting to his feet before dashing into their bedroom, hoping to stop her before she even tried to reveal all his secrets.
Loud laughter followed the frantic spymaster, but he did not care. All he cared about was finding those letters and burning them, or maybe atleast hiding them away so his wife couldn’t tease him about it.
He had a reputation to uphold, after all.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
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The House Of Piastri : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri
summary: the one where you and oscar move into a place that you can finally call your own
“Welcome to the house of Piastri!” Oscar chimed, turning the key and opening up the place that was finally yours. “Our very first home,” Oscar grinned, throwing his arm across your shoulders, pulling you in.
It was far from perfect, there were moving boxes everywhere, little decoration, and many of the rooms were uncoordinated, but it was your place. Just for you and Oscar. There was no one else around, nothing to interrupt you both anymore.
“Where do we begin?” You laughed, pressing your fingers to your temple. “What have we signed ourselves up for?” You asked Oscar, glancing across at him. His smile was wide, a lot more optimistic than you were at the adventure that you had ahead of you.
When Oscar suggested the two of you think about finding your own place after moving to Monaco, you jumped at the chance. It was a big deal for you both, having only ever lived separately before, but after leaving home in order to support Oscar, you knew you couldn’t be alone.
“Doesn’t it just feel right though?” Oscar whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I can already see how amazing it’s going to look, even if it doesn’t look that way right now.”
Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, no doubt that it was a place you’d feel happy calling your home. You and Oscar had so many plans, you’d spent hours awake at night talking through your ideas, searching online for some inspiration of what you’d like.
“The view is beautiful too,” you hummed, taking a few steps forward across the room to where your balcony was. “I don’t think I’ll tire of looking out here, it’s beautiful.”
“Almost as beautiful as you,” Oscar chimed, watching as your eyes rolled. “What? I’m only being honest; it doesn’t quite compare to you.”
Oscar took your hand again, leading you across to where the sofa was just beside the balcony. You sat against his side, back pressed against his chest as Oscar rested his head on top of yours. It was about the only piece of furniture that you had built and ready to go, having taken most of the day to get it delivered and set up, but it left you both excited for all the hard work that was to come.
It felt like a dream as you looked around the apartment, neither you or Oscar could quite believe that you were finally there, after months of planning and waiting around.
“Imagine how beautiful this is going to be soon,” Oscar whispered into your ear, “I can see us spending forever here, growing old, maybe even raising a family too.”
Your eyes widened as Oscar spoke, not quite knowing what to say. He felt your body tense up, worried that maybe he’d said the wrong thing, got too ahead of himself in amongst all of the excitement of moving in.
Oscar mumbled an apology across to you. “I didn’t mean to say that, it’s just a maybe one day kind of thing. I guess I’m just excited for the future now that we’re finally here.”
It wasn’t that you were scared, but you’d never really heard Oscar talk about your future plans before. You were both so young, and had so much time ahead of you, although you knew most of your time now was going to be spent building, decorating, and trying to get your home look a little more homely.
“Don’t be sorry,” you smiled up at Oscar, “there’s no need to be sorry. I like that you’re thinking about these sorts of things. Forever is a long time though; we don’t know where the future is going to take us.”
“I’d live anywhere as long as I had you with me,” Oscar mused, “I’d live in a rubbish bin as long as you were there, even if you would end up smelling a bit.”
“Moving in has really got you thinking about things, hasn’t it?”
Oscar nodded, kissing against the top of your head. “I guess moving in with you has made me so happy, I’m just excited now for what’s going to come next.”
“I’ll give you a clue...a heck of a lot of painting,” you teased.
It was going to take many hours to get the apartment as you wanted it, but you and Oscar knew that together you’d get it done. You didn’t want the easy option when it came to finding your home, but even this was a harder challenge than either of you could imagine.
“Think about all the memories that we’re going to make here,” Oscar spoke, “we’ll be able to have friends over, family can stay when they visit, and just stay here together too.”
It was a big move, not only had you found a new city, but you’d found a new country too. Luckily for you, many of the other drivers who were already out there had been more than willing to help you out, offering their services whenever you needed them.
“I think once we’re unpacked and decorated, I’ll feel happier, your mum would be mortified if she knew we were living here with the state of this place right now,” you replied.
“She can’t wait to visit,” Oscar laughed, “I think she might be more excited than us about this.”
Everyone around you couldn’t wait to see you move in together, you were inseparable at the best of times and it was only a matter of time. Your parents, and Oscar’s, especially had pushed you to move in, desperate to see you in a place you could call your own.
“It’s going to be crazy, but there’s no one else I’d like to move in with and decorate my first home alongside.”
Your head nodded in agreement with Oscar, as terrifying as it was, you were beyond excited too. Your vision was clear, and one thing you were absolutely confident of was the fact that you were absolutely going to love living there, especially with Oscar there too.
“You know, when all of this is done, we’ll be able to sit here and think about how lucky we are.”
Your head tilted back to look up at Oscar, “I already feel lucky enough as it is. You’re here, and we’re in Monaco, what could be better than that?”
“I really do appreciate you moving all the way out here to support me,” Oscar whispered, “not many people would move across the world for their partner. It’s a huge sacrifice to make, I just hope that it’s worthwhile being here for you.”
“It’s worth it, wherever you go, I go,” you replied, reminding him of the promise that you made to each other. “Anyway, Monaco is definitely the place that feels like home now too.”
Oscar glanced down with a smile, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you right now. I think I could get used to living here, with you.”
“I agree, this is beyond anything that I could have ever dreamed of.”
“It’s not just an apartment anymore, it’s our home,” Oscar said, “a place we can finally call our own.”
“The house of Piastri, it’s perfect.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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There's no rapid knocking at the door, no angry shouts through the letter box, just one simple ding-dong of his doorbell that doesn't warn him about what's coming. Tommy peels himself off the sofa and kicks the blanket away from his feet before he makes his way down the hall, skin grubby from day three of no shower. Scratching at his neck, he peers through the peephole, finds no one, and opens the door to—
"Happy birthday, you asshole."
Evan shoves a plastic-boxed cake into his arms and shoves past him, all shoulders and grief-tinged rage. Tommy blinks at the empty space in front of him and then down at the cake with it's melting frosting and badly piped Happy Birthday that's threatening to slide off the top. The bottom of the box is warm, the cake presumably out of the oven in the last hour or two, and he shuts the door behind Evan.
"What are you doing here?" His voice is a telling rasp, and he turns only to find that Evan's not there and he's speaking to the air.
Moving back into his house he finds his ex-boyfriend standing in the living room, taking in the scene of Tommy's post-break up depression with an unimpressed look on his face.
"Evan—" he starts only to fall silent when a sharp look is thrown at him, pain etched into the lines of Evan's face.
"I thought it was Buck now," is the snark he gets back.
The snark that lands in the bruised parts of him and blooms fresh pain.
"I—right, yeah." Awkwardly he sets the cake down and shifts his weight. "What're you doing here?"
"It's your birthday so I baked you a cake because you're an idiot who broke my heart and I hate you but I love you more than I hate you and I wanted to tell you that," Evan says in an angry rush. "And I'm so mad at you, so fucking mad, Tommy. This last week—I've hated it. I miss you. It's like you gave me everything I ever wanted and then you just took it away from me and I fucking hate you for doing that."
Tommy swallows, throat dry. "If it helps, I hate myself too."
"No that doesn't help," Evan snaps, eyes tracking over him. "Jesus, have you even showered since last week?"
"Yes," he says, a little annoyance slipping into his tone. "I'm not a child."
Evan snorts and bends down to grab the blanket, shaking it out before folding it in rough sweeps of his hands until it's folded neat and tidy on the couch. It looks like there's more he wants to say and he's not sure what to say first and Tommy should tell him to leave, to keep this break as clean as possible but walking away from Evan was the hardest thing he's ever done, he's not sure he can stomach Evan walking away from him.
And then, without any warning, the anger drains from Evan, just slides right out of him until he's soft and sad and so wide eyed that Tommy can't bear looking at him.
(He can't bear to look away either.)
"Why didn't you tell me it wasn't serious?" Evan asks, voice wobbling and fingers curling in the sleeves of his hoodie that Tommy recognizes as his own. "Why did you let me—? I don't understand what went wrong."
"Evan," he rasps. "Buck."
"Don't," Evan interrupts, angrily swiping at his eyes. "Don't call me Buck. Don't ever call me that again, please. I can't—not from you."
"I'm sorry," Tommy says, uselessly. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted...you scare the shit out of me. You could—Jesus, Evan, the way you could break me without even realizing it...I'm terrified."
"So you thought you'd break me first?" Evan demands, anger wet and burning. "Because you did. Congratulations. I'm fucking miserable because of you. Because you were too afraid to actually have a conversation with me about what you wanted and needed and you just let me rush forward thinking we were both on the same page. And all this time you had one foot out the door."
Tommy shakes his head. "No, that's not it."
"Then what is it?"
"I'm not someone's forever!" The words snap out of him, cracking like a whip, and Evan blinks, startled. "I'm the guy that gets you there, alright? I'm the guy that shows you how it should be and then someone else, someone better, gets to be your forever."
Evan's mouth opens and then shuts, a frown pinching between his eyes that are focused on Tommy. "I didn't...how could there be someone better than you?"
"Evan," he sighs. "Please, don't."
"No, tell me, I want to know." Evan's stepping into his personal space, grabbing his hands and pulling him the rest of the way. And he burns at Evan's touch, at his warmth, at realizing that what he thought was the last time they touched wasn't it. "Who's going to love me like you do? Because you love me. I know you do. You haven't said it but I think I get why now but I know it. So tell me, who's going to love me as good as you do?"
"Evan, please."
His plea falls on deaf ears because Evan's right there, pale-skinned and smudges beneath his eyes from restless sleep, and Tommy wants to keep him there forever.
"I can't do it again," he whispers. "I can't let you go again."
"Then don't," Evan tells him. "I don't want you to. I don't want to explore my sexuality or whatever bullshit you think I need to do to be queer enough for a life with you. I just want you. Can't we just, I don't know, figure out the rest of it together?"
"Evan—"
He's weakening and he knows it. Worse, Evan knows it.
"We'll slow down, we'll go so slowly this time," Evan tells him, pressing his case and his body closer so that the warmth of his breath washes over Tommy's stale mouth. "We'll talk, properly. Maybe—maybe we could see a couple's therapist? Because I want you to be my last. I don't want anyone else. Please don't make me look for someone. Please."
"Evan." His body trembles. "I'm scared."
"I know," Evan says, soft like he's gentling a spooked horse. "But you can be scared with me, right? That's what it's about, yeah? Sharing the good things and the bad. I want both of them with you. I want everything with you. Will you please just—?"
Tommy kisses him and Evan immediately relaxes against him, the world righting itself around them, and he knows, right then, that Evan is his last, no matter what.
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🚨🇵🇸🍉 After collecting an amount of 4,038 euros out of 20,000 through GovendMe, this link will be stopped for special reasons and donations will be received through [ PayPal ] only.
Thank you for your understanding, friends
A brief part of your story 🍉🇵🇸 ⤵️
A Father’s Cry for Help: Save My Daughter’s Future
My name is Ahmed, a teacher from Gaza. I lost my son, Tamim
And now my daughter Najah, just one year and three months old, is trapped with her mother in northern Gaza, suffering from hunger, fear, and homelessness😭 We are separated by war, and I haven’t seen her take her first steps or hear her laugh. Every day without her breaks my heart 💔
Tamim above and Najah below 👇🏻
I’m in southern Gaza, caring for my sick father, my injured brother, and my younger siblings.
I need help to send my daughter food, diapers, and basic necessities—but most of all, I need to get her out of Gaza. I dream of giving her a life free from war, where she can grow up in peace and safety.��
Please help me give my daughter the future every child deserves. Every moment counts.
🔴 This is the brother I told you about in my story.
On the morning of October 13th, we woke up to a devastating explosion that shook our neighborhood. As we searched through the rubble for survivors, we heard the faint voice of my younger brother calling from beneath the debris of a nearby house. He was pulled out with partial memory loss and a skull fracture, and every day since, he has endured his pain in silence. The doctors have stressed the urgent need for surgery to remove the shrapnel lodged in his head, but this operation can only be performed abroad.
We humbly ask for your donations to help save my brother’s life and give him the chance to heal. Your generosity can make all the difference.🙏🇵🇸🍉
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Noona please I beg of you, I need more men grovelling and regretting their actions; please give us more of the angsty version of the dukedom au it’s so good, it’s so cathartic please. What happens when the boys realize they fucked up? Who wants to fight Konig upon realizing reader is definitely getting her back blown out by him? Imagine if reader ended up having his baby, or placing divorce papers on Price’s desk, god the ANGST of it all
Here’s my dog as a banana as payment
Original post
THE DOG PICCC TELL YOUR DOG I SAID THEY ARE GOODEST BOY/GIRL EVERRRR ID DIE FOR THEMMM
also thank you to everyone for all the suggestions! I couldn’t add all of them so I’m super sorry for that 😭 and also a thank you to @darkangel4121 for your replies!!
The shift in the household’s demeanor comes slowly, as if the wind has changed direction. At first, it’s little things- a hesitant glance from John, a lingering pause before he leaves a room. Kyle- as you've come to finally learn his first name despite not asking- places your breakfast tray before you with newfound care and no disdainful silence, and Johnny’s meals are cooked to perfection, also a new name you've just so recently been told of. Even Duke Riley himself begins to nod in your direction when he visits, acknowledging your presence in ways he never did before.
But it all feels hollow.
These gestures, once craved, now barely touch you. You are polite, civil, offering faint smiles that do not reach your eyes, acknowledging the changes without truly engaging. Your heart no longer waits at the threshold of their approval; it has found its sanctuary elsewhere, firmly cradled in the hands of a man who has always seen you. Your knight. Your shadow. König.
You walk through the estate, thinking of John’s efforts with a detached air. He invites you to dinners now rather than leave you alone for entire days and nights, his voice gentler, eyes searching for cracks in the walls he helped build. He asks about your day, and you respond with the measured politeness your parents taught you. The warmth he offers now is too late, a sun long set. The flicker of hope in his eyes fades each time you excuse yourself early, your presence like a ghost haunting rooms that no longer feel like home.
König waits for you just beyond the hallways, his presence like a balm to a wound. He falls in step beside you without a word, the weight of his loyalty comforting in a way no amount of decorum could be. He is everything you need- unwavering, fiercely protective, and yours.
In the gardens, beneath a gnarled oak tree, you find moments of peace with him that you could never find within the walls of the estate. You sit together in companionable silence, your shawl and his cape wrapped tightly around you against the evening chill. When you lean against him, pressing your forehead to the cool metal of his armor, you feel his breath hitch. His hand comes to rest at your back, gentle despite the strength he wields.
“I missed you today,” you whisper, your fingers tracing idle patterns over the fabric of his sleeve. It is an admission you would have once swallowed down, but with König, you have no need to hide.
His grip tightens briefly. “I am always here, mylady,” he replies, his voice soft only for you. “You need only call for me.”
“I know.” You close your eyes, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. It beats for you, and that knowledge fills the spaces that loneliness once carved. “You are all I need.”
He shifts then, kneeling before you as he often does, his hands enveloping yours. His gaze is intense, pale eyes searching your face for signs of hesitation, but there are none. “I would give you the world if I could, mylady,” he says, voice low. “But all I have is myself.”
“You are enough,” you say simply, and you mean it. “More than enough. All I could ever want.”
König bows his head, a soft exhale escaping him. “Then I will stay by your side, always.”
The men of the estate still try, fumbling in their newfound efforts to mend what they broke.
John brings you flowers, freshly cut and arranged with care, so you can decorate your drawing room where you occasionally play the harp. You accept them with a polite nod, but they are forgotten in moments, and you go back to asking Konig his opinion on the melody you are playing. Kyle offers to escort you on walks, but you refuse, choosing instead the quiet solace of the garden paths shared with König. Simon’s attempts at conversation are met with cool civility, and Johnny's food largely goes untouched. You allow none of them closer than courtesy demands.
And the gifts received from John and Duke Simon are left untouched. They aren’t much of your style anyways.
But with König, you are different. Soft. Open. You share your thoughts, your fears, the dreams you had long given up on. He listens, always.
One evening, in the safe privacy of your rooms, he rests his head in your lap, a rare moment of vulnerability. You cradle his masked face, tracing the edges of the fabric. You are unafraid of being interrupted; your new maids were quiet and nervous, likely not wanting to be dismissed after the last batch were. You still have no idea how Konig managed to do it, but he spoke to John personally and had them all removed; despite that, you don’t care for their dubious help.
You had made sure to show Konig your appreciation quite thoroughly. Even days later, you swore you could feel how big his hands on your thighs were, keeping you nice and open for his tongue. He'd kept you in that position even when a knock had sounded and someone had entered, but the knowledge of what was going on only sent a sharp thrill of excitement through you.
Still, pettily, you hoped it'd been John who had seen you in the throes of pleasure.
Not right now, Duchess. Not right now.
“Are you tired, my love?” you ask gently, the term of endearment slipping out so naturally it catches even you by surprise, earlier thoughts pushed aside. Still, you have no desire to take it back.
He stills, breath caught. “Say it again. Please.”
“My love.” You smile, leaning closer to press your forehead against his. “You are my love.”
His hands tighten around yours, trembling. “I have always been yours.”
And you believe him. In the warmth of his embrace, you find what the others could now never give- a place where you are cherished, where you are enough. The rest of the estate watches you drift further away, their regret too heavy to shift the chasm that now lies between you. You are beyond their reach, ensconced in a love that was never born out of duty but out of genuine care.
In one of those quiet moments beneath the moonlit sky, after a tiring day of going between appointments and lawyers, you ask him, “Will you take me far from here one day, König? Somewhere far away, where I am free?”
“When you are ready, Liebling,” he promises without hesitation, pale eyes earnest. “I will take you wherever you wish to go.”
The world around you may continue its attempts to pull you back in, but it is too late. Your heart belongs only to the man who has always been your refuge, your shadow, your light. And with him, you finally feel free. König, König, König- and no one else.
#cod x reader#cod#noona.asks#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#noona.writes#simon ghost riley x reader#konig x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141#simon ghost x you#kortac x reader#simon ghost riley x you#john price x you#soap x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#soap x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#kyle gaz x reader#ghost x reader
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