#and of course William is truthful
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Eliza and William Moments Âť Series 1, Episode 1
âMy father would be so disappointed in me.â âNo, no, he... He would not be disappointed, merely worried. As I am.â
#miss scarlet and the duke#my edit: miss scarlet and the duke#my edit#okay so technically she's playing him in the full context this scene#but I do think she was afraid that there was some truth in what she says about her father#and of course William is truthful#but lordy it was very hard to choose which caps to use ahem#also his hand is on her hand (which is on her hip) or the small of her back#because when she pulls away it's actually not on her elbow until she moves
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#you can't escape the truth#of course I draw butcher with one hand because I jerk myself off with the other#billy butcher#william butcher#homelander#butchlander#the boys
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tag drop me hearties.
#devilry. âââ || : and really bad eggs.#answered. âââ || : ye come seekinâ adventure and salty old piratesďźeh?#meme. âââ || : prepare to make sail!#meme response. âââ || : it be too late to alter courseďźmateys.#ooc. âââ || : no need to expose your superstructure!#musings. âââ || : one cannot be moderately deadďźor moderately lovedďźor moderately free.#elizabeth swann. âââ || : let me wrap my teeth around the world.#jack sparrow. âââ || : a little tune he whistles and a little song he singsďźmountingďźstill triumphant on his torn and broken wings.#cutler beckett. âââ || : killing innocent pirates with a gusto.#aesthetic. âââ || : we betray the ones we love for those we love a little more.#william turner. âââ || : only cruel immortality consumes: I wither slowly in thine armsďźhere at the quiet limit of the world.#hector barbossa. âââ || : and they all dead did lie: and a thousand thousand slimy things lived onďźand so did I.#davy jones. âââ || : Charonďźthe proud and sombre beggar stoodďźwith one strong vengeful hand on either oar.#james norrington. âââ || : but manďźproud manďźdrest in a little brief authorityďźmost ignorant of what heâs most assurâd.#mr. cotton. âââ || : rule 42 of the Code: no one shall speak to the Man at the Helmďźand the Man at the Helm shall speak to no one.#v: pre cotbp. âââ || : in memory of golden summer hoursďźand whispers of a summer sea.#v: cotbp. âââ || : I am sick of prettinessďźI am sick of privacy. I ride rough waters and shall sink with no one to save me.#v: dmc. âââ || : man's apparel she put onďźand she follow'd her true loverďźfor to find him she is gone.#v: awe. âââ || : we set out with a map and a flagďźwith a gun and a ragďźwith ambitions and dreams.#v: post awe. âââ || : when our truth is burned from historyďźby those who figure justice in fond memoryďźwitness me.#norribeth. âââ || : we were two ships in the nightďźhellbent on trying to surviveďźand capsized.#willabeth. âââ || : all the fear and the fire of the end of the world happens each time a boy falls in love with a girl.#sparrabeth. âââ || : we were not made to let ourselves grow rotten on the vineďźI know heaven canât be better than your body next to mine.
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The Secret Admirer - Franco Colapinto x Driver!Reader
summary: Y/N thought the biggest challenge this season would be her dynamic with her cold teammate, but mysterious notes and gifts start to complicate things. Whoâs behind it, and what happens when she finds out?
content: driver!reader; slight lestappen in-between the lines if you're down for it
AN - HELLO?? when did I reach 100 followers?? that's crazy fr thank you guys so much <3 getting myself a some lilies tomorrow to celebrate heehee :)
inspired after reading an amazing secret admirer SMAU by @hugleclerc!!
---------------------------------------------------
The Williams garage was alive with the buzz of mechanics and engineers, adjusting last-minute setups on the cars before qualifying. I leaned against the wall, watching the team work their magic. The air was tense, but everyone seemed focused, ready for the battle that awaited on track.
Everyone except Franco Colapinto.
I glanced across the garage, where Franco stood laughing with one of the engineers. His gorgeous green eyes sparkled as he made some clever comment, drawing a laugh from the guy. Of course, everyone adored Francoâcharming, effortlessly cool, always with a smile that could melt ice.
Just not when it came to me.
I took a deep breath, feeling the usual pang of frustration bubble up. It wasnât that I needed to be best friends with my teammate, but we were supposed to be a team. Teammates were supposed to at least talk to each other, right? But noâFranco acted like I was a ghost. A ghost in a fireproof suit.
Whatever, I told myself. It wasnât like I cared... much.
But maybe today would be different. Maybe today, Iâd crack the Colapinto code.
âHey, Franco,â I called out as I approached him, keeping my voice light, almost hopeful. âReady for qualifying?â
He turned toward me, his eyes flickering me up and down for the briefest moment. âHey,â he said, offering me the most forced smile Iâd ever seen. I wasnât sure whether to laugh or cry at how bad this was going already. âI, uh... need to check the data,â he quickly added, already turning away before I could even blink.
Right. Data. The lamest excuse. I watched as he made a beeline for the monitors, leaving me standing there like an idiot talking to thin air. Again.
I sighed, folding my arms. âSure, no problem.â It felt ridiculousâlike I was chasing after something that clearly didnât matter to him.Â
I didnât want to admit how much it actually bugged me. Not having a good bond with Franco wasnât just a professional issueâit felt personal. I got on with everyone else in the paddock. Oscar? Hilarious. Charles? Always up for a nice talk. Lando? Honestly too crazy for his own good. But Franco? He was a mystery wrapped in a cold, distant puzzle.
I let out another sigh, shaking my head. Turning to head back to my car again.
The truth was, it bothered me more than I liked to admit. I wanted to have that easy camaraderie I had with the others, but Franco wasnât interested. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe it was just the rivalry for the number 1 seat at Williams, and I was overthinking things.
But still, every time I saw him chat with the team, his eyes lighting up as he joked around, it stung. Why couldnât he be like that with me?
The countdown to qualifying flashed on the screens around the garage, snapping me back to reality. Focus. I had a job to do. I wasnât going to let Francoâs attitude get in the way of that. I could beat him on the track. Thatâs what mattered.
..
Back in my driverâs room, the hum of the paddock faded as I shut the door behind me. The familiar quiet enveloped me, offering a brief moment of peace. I tugged at the zipper of my race suit, peeling it halfway down to let out the heat. Qualifying had gone well enough, p10, but my mind was elsewhere, drifting away from lap times and tire choices.
I moved around the small space, packing my gloves and helmet, going through the motions of tidying up. There was something soothing about the routineâfolding, zipping, stashing gear away in its proper place. It gave my hands something to do while my thoughts wandered.
As I reached for my bag, my fingers brushed against something unexpectedâa small, folded piece of paper peeking out from the side pocket. I paused, pulling it free and unfolding it slowly. The handwriting was neat, familiar. My heart gave a small flutter, as it always did when I found one of these.
"You looked amazing again today. Seeing you shine is the highlight of my raceweekends."
A smile tugged at my lips, soft but undeniable. These notes had been showing up for weeks now, tucked into my things when I least expected it. Always sweet, always supportive, and just romantic enough to make me wonder who the mysterious admirer could be.
I leaned back against the bench, holding the note in my hand. Whoever was behind this... they were good. Thoughtful, even. They knew how to say just enough to lift my spirits without crossing that line into cringe territory.
But who could it be? Iâd racked my brain plenty of times. Maybe one of the engineers? They were always around, and some of them had a quiet, observant vibe. Or could it be the chef who made those amazing post-race meals? He was always so friendly, always knew exactly how to make my day a little better.
I folded the note carefully and slid it into my pocket, shaking my head with a soft laugh. Whoever it was, they were doing a great job of keeping it a secret. It was frustrating, sure, but at the same time... there was something kind of magical about the mystery. And it felt good, knowing someone was watching, rooting for me in their own quiet way.Â
With a small smile, I headed toward the door, stepping into the outside world again, basically hitting me in the face with its upbeat energy. Whatever challenges lay ahead, at least I had one thing to look forward toâsomeone out there cared. And that was more than enough to brighten my day.
..
At the hotel I went straight to the restaurant which was filled with the typical post-qualifying buzzâdrivers catching up, teams unwinding with food and drinks, and engineers talking shop over their meals. I slipped into the booth beside Oscar, who was already halfway through his plate, while Charles raised his glass in greeting.
âTough session?â Oscar asked, his mouth half full, which would sure as hell earn him a scolding from Nicole Piastri if she saw him like this.
I shrugged, picking up the menu. âCouldâve been worse. Franco had his usual charm on, though.â I tried to keep it light, but there was no hiding the disappointment creeping into my voice.
Charles raised an eyebrow, setting his glass down with a smirk. âAnd by charm, you mean...â
âHe barely acknowledged me.â I sighed, flipping the menu open. âI tried to wish him luck, you know, like a teammate would? He gave me the most forced smile, muttered something about âchecking the data,â and bolted.â
Oscar leaned back in his seat, giving me a knowing look. âClassic Franco move. Avoidance with a dash of politeness.â
âYeah, that about sums it up,â I muttered, more amused than frustrated at this point.
Charles chuckled. âWell, itâs not like he hates you. Maybe heâs just... I donât know, bad at the whole teammate thing.â
âMaybe,â I said, not really convinced. âItâs just... disappointing. Everyone else on the grid is easy to get along with, but with Franco, itâs like I donât exist. I get that weâre both competitive for that number one seat, but it doesnât mean we have to be strangers.â
Oscar gave me a small, sympathetic smile, then his face lit up with a mischievous glint. âAt least youâve got someone making up for it with those cute little love notes.â
My cheeks flushed a bit as I fumbled with the menu. I wasnât expecting that to come up so quickly. âI wouldnât call them love notes.â
Charles leaned in, clearly intrigued. âOh, do tell.â
I sighed, setting the menu down. âItâs nothing major. Just... someoneâs been leaving notes for me. Encouraging ones. Theyâre always really sweet and thoughtful.â
Charles and Oscar exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing.
âOur girlâs got a secret admirer!â Oscar stated, grinning ear to ear.
Charles joined in. âAnd you didnât think to tell me? Come on, Y/N, weâre supposed to be your investigative team here.â
I rolled my eyes, smiling despite their teasing. âItâs not like that. I mean, I donât even know who it is. The notes just show up in my stuffâmy locker, my bag, even my hotel room once.â
Charles was practically bouncing in his seat. âThis is amazing. Youâve got a secret admirer in the paddock, and youâre keeping it from us? Thatâs just cruel.â
Oscar tilted his head, considering. âMaybe itâs one of the journalists? Theyâre always hanging around the paddock.â
I frowned, thinking it over. âA journalist? I donât know... It seems kind of personal. Like, whoeverâs leaving them knows whatâs going on in my head.â
Charles grinned, clearly loving the mystery. âMaybe itâs that tire guy. You know, the one whoâs always lurking around with that awkward smile.â
I laughed. âSure, because nothing says romance like delivering tires.â
âHey, you never know,â Charles teased. âThe guy might have a thing for drivers who know how to handle a good set of Pirellis.â
Oscar snorted. âWell, whoever it is, theyâre clearly invested in you. And the fact that theyâre staying anonymous? Bold move.â
I shook my head, grinning despite myself. âItâs not like that. I mean, I donât think it is. The notes are more... supportive than romantic.â
Charles smirked. âSupportive, romantic... itâs the same thing when youâre the one receiving them.â
I leaned back, letting out a breath. âMaybe. Itâs just weird not knowing. Whoever it is must be around a lot to be able to slip the notes into my stuff without me noticing.â
Oscar shrugged. âCould be anyone. Engineer, journalist, tire guy... heck, it could be someone from another team for all we know.â
Charles gave me a nudge. âCome on, letâs not overthink this. Whoever it is, theyâre obviously paying attention to you in ways weâre not. Just... enjoy it. You deserve it.â
..
Back in my hotel room, I tossed my bag onto the bed and collapsed into the armchair. Even after the dinner with Oscar and Charles, the post-quali hectivity still lingered in my head, and I was ready to unwind. As I sat up, something caught my eye on the deskâthere, sitting perfectly in the middle, was a bouquet of lilies, their soft pink petals delicate and crisp against the dark wood. Nestled among the flowers was a small teddy bear, its plush almost glowing in the dim room light.
I blinked, taking a step closer. Another note.
With a grin creeping onto my face, I picked up the folded paper, carefully sliding it out from between the stems. My heart fluttered a little as I unfolded it, the familiar neat handwriting greeting me once again.
"Flowers for the prettiest girl in the pitlane, you are doing amazing this weekend."
The warmth that spread through me was undeniable. Whoever this was, they had a knack for making me feel special without going overboard. I set the note down on the desk, reaching for the teddy bear. It was soft, comforting in a way that made me smile.
Without thinking, I scooped up the flowers and the teddy and practically ran out of the room, determined to show Oscar and Charles the latest installment of this ongoing mystery. I knew theyâd have a field day with it.
When I made it down to the lobby, I spotted them easilyâOscar and Charles were draped over the couches, their laughter carrying across the room.
âOh no,â Oscar said as soon as he saw me, eyes locking onto the bouquet. âNot more flowers.â
Charles leaned forward, grinning. âWhat is it this time? Roses? A life-sized teddy bear?â
I sat down next to them, holding up the lilies and teddy with a mock dramatic flourish. âLilies and a teddy bear,â I announced. âAnd another note. This person is definitely stepping up their game.â
Before I could say more, Max appeared out of nowhere, sliding into the chair next to Charles. He raised an eyebrow at the sight. âWait, wait, waitâwhat did I miss?â
Oscar leaned over, grinning like crazy. âOh, just Y/Nâs latest delivery from her secret admirer.â
Maxâs eyes widened in mock shock. âSecret admirer? How come Iâm only finding out about this now? Charles, you shouldâve told me!â
Charles waved him off. âYouâve been too busy. Someoneâs been leaving notes and gifts for Y/N. This is the latest oneâlilies and a teddy bear. The whole deal.â
Without missing a beat, Max straightened up dramatically and grabbed Charlesâs hand, mimicking a lovestruck expression, placing a hand on his chest. âOh, darling Charles, Iâve waited so long to tell you how much I adore you. Letme sweep you off your feet with lilies and teddy bears,â he said in a ridiculous voice, earning a round of laughter from the guys.
Charles, unable to keep a straight face, clutched at his chest. âOh, Max, I had no idea! How could I have been so blind?â He pretended to swoon, leaning into Max as Oscar snorted with laughter.
The whole thing was so ridiculous that I couldnât help but burst out laughing, holding onto the teddy bear as Charles dramatically fell into Maxâs arms. Oscar nearly spilled his drink, laughing so hard he was shaking.
âYou guys are so annoying,â I said, shaking my head.
Oscar wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. âAnd yet, you still hang out with us.â
âOkay, okay,â I said, sitting down beside Oscar. âYou can all make fun of me later. But seriously, I have no idea whoâs behind this.â
Max leaned over, winking at me. âWhoever it is, Iâd say theyâre pretty serious about this. You should probably start writing your thank-you speech for when they finally reveal themselves.â
Oscar tilted his head thoughtfully. âMaybe itâs someone who sees you all the time but doesnât want to be too obvious about it. A paddock regular.â
Charles nodded. âLike that tire guy. Maybe heâs finally making his move.â
Lando, who joined the group mid maxâs performance and had been quietly observing so far, crossed his arms, his grin widening. âOh, I have a pretty good idea who it is.â
I raised an eyebrow, curious. âOh, really?â
Lando shrugged casually, a sly smile playing on his lips. âI mean, if you pay attention, itâs not that hard to figure out. Itâs always someone who notices the little things, like when you have a really good session or when youâre extra happy about something.â
Oscar tilted his head. âWait... are you saying you know who it is?â
Landoâs smirk widened just a fraction. âIÂ guess Iâm fairly certain, yeah. But whereâs the fun in telling you now? Iâll let you all figure it out.â
Max leaned back, giving Lando a look. âCome on, mate. You canât just drop that and leave us hanging.â
Lando held up his hands, still grinning. âIâm just sayingâsometimes the answerâs right in front of you. Youâve just gotta look a little closer.â
I narrowed my eyes at him, the wheels in my head turning, but before I could press him any further, George strolled up, adjusting his jacket with his usual air of elegance. He took one look at the flowers and teddy bear, and his face lit up with intrigue.
âGood evening, Gentlemen, Gentlewoman,â George said, eyes carefully inspecting the gifts on the table, âwhatâs this whole ordeal about?â
Oscar leaned forward, clearly enjoying himself. âY/Nâs got a secret admirer. Notes, flowers, gifts... the whole thing.â
George straightened up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. âA secret admirer, you say? Well, this sounds like a job for me.â
Max snickered. âYouâre going to solve this mystery, Sherlock?â
George gave him a serious nod. âAbsolutely. Itâs a matter of pride now. Y/N, you leave this in my capable hands.â
I laughed. âWhatâs your plan, George?â
He adjusted his collar with a flourish. âIâll start by investigating everyone in the paddock. No stone shall be left unturned, no individual overlooked.â
Charles chuckled. âIâd pay good money to see you interrogating the tire guy.â
George gave him a lofty wave. âThe tire guy? Please, Iâll be far more thorough than that. Iâll speak to marshalls, cleaning staff, team principalsâeveryone. By the end of this, Iâll have your answer.â
Oscar grinned. âIâm sure theyâll all appreciate your thoroughness.â
âFear not,â George continued, completely serious, âI will get to the bottom of this. You can count on me.â
We all burst out laughing as George made his dramatic exit, heading off toward the elevators with an air of determination.
Max shook his head, still chuckling. âHeâs going to be a nightmare in the paddock tomorrow.â
Oscar leaned back, crossing his arms. âNo kidding. Heâll have everyone hiding from him by lunchtime.â
Lando, still lounging comfortably, gave me a quick glance. âWell, while Sherlockâs off gathering clues, we can all sit back and enjoy the show.â
I smiled, hugging the teddy bear close. âYeah, this whole thing is getting out of hand.â
But even as I said it, I glanced down at the note again, my fingers brushing over the neat handwriting. There was something about this whole thingâsomething I felt I was overlooking.
..
Race day had finally arrived, and the paddock was alive with excitement. The driversâ parade was one of those moments where the race hadnât quite hit yet, and the energy was more about the fans than the looming competition. I stood with the other drivers, the sun bright overhead, as we waited to climb into the two open-top trucks that would take us around the circuit.
The atmosphere was lively, the cheers of the crowd echoing through the streets. For a brief moment, it was just about the spectacleâno stress, no pressure. Just waves and smiles.
âY/N!â Georgeâs voice cut through the noise, and I turned to see him weaving through the group with a grin. âIâve got updates.â
I raised an eyebrow. âUpdates on what?â
George leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. âThe investigation. Iâve been doing some digging.â
I stifled a laugh, shaking my head. âGeorge, I thought we agreed to keep this low-key.â
He nodded, but there was a glint in his eyes. âOh, of course. Very discreet. But just so you know, Iâve already ruled out a few people. I had a chat with the tire guysâtheyâre off the list.â
I couldnât help but grin. âGood to know.â
Oscar, standing a few feet away, overheard and sauntered over, clearly amused. âGeorge is still on about that, huh?â
George straightened up, looking entirely too pleased with himself. âIâm telling you, weâre making progress. Just need to connect a few more dots.â
I rolled my eyes. âSure, Sherlock. But keep it subtle, okay?â
Oscar chuckled, clapping George on the shoulder as we climbed into one of the trucks for the parade. âJust donât go questioning the marshals next, alright?â
We settled into the large truck, with half the drivers in ours and the rest in another up ahead. George stood beside me, his detective mindset clearly still working overtime. âIâll crack this eventually,â he said, his tone only half-joking.
As the truck rolled forward, George leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. âIâve narrowed it down to three main suspects.â
I raised an eyebrow, already bracing for the ridiculousness. âOkay, hit me. Whoâs on your list?â
George, completely serious, ticked off the names on his fingers. âFirst, Gunther Steiner.â
Oscar, standing across from us, choked on his water. âGunther? Seriously?â
George nodded. âCould be him, right? The manâs full of surprises.â
I bit back a laugh, playing along. âSure, letâs put Gunther in the mix. Who else?â
George held up a second finger. âThen, thereâs one of the guys from Dutch TV. Heâs always hanging around too, and I saw him chatting with the engineers yesterday. Could be a cover.â
Oscar shook his head, thoroughly amused. âA Dutch broadcaster? Arenât most of those guys well over 50?â
âAnd lastly,â George said, leaning in even closer, âLewis.â
I burst out laughing. âLewis? Really?â
George shrugged. âHeâs known to be romantic. He certainly stole my heart in the last few years of us working together.â
âHeâs like a dad to me, George!â I said, rolling my eyes.
George grinned, completely unfazed by the disbelief. âYou never know. He surely is a handsome guy.â
As the parade began to roll forward, I glanced over at Lewis, who was standing on the other side of the truck, waving atfans as we passed by. He caught my eye and made his way over, always up for a chat.
âReady for race day, Y/N?â Lewis asked, his smile easy and familiar.
IÂ smiled, waving to the crowd. âAbsolutely! Iâve got a good feeling about the car this weekend.â
Lewis nodded, his gaze shifting briefly to Franco, who was further up in the other truck, chatting with Carlos and Checo. âHowâs it going with your teammate?â he asked, his voice carrying a hint of understanding.
I sighed. âItâs just weird, you know? Iâve tried to build some kind of rapport with him, but he barely acknowledges me. Feels like Iâm talking to a wall sometimes.â
Lewis nodded knowingly. âIâve been there. Back when Nico and I were teammates, it was the same. Sometimes, no matter what you do, the team dynamic just doesnât click.â
I glanced over at Franco, who was sitting up ahead in the other truck, chatting easily with some of the engineers. âYeah, thatâs exactly how it feels. I donât want to be at odds with him, but itâs hard when heâs so distant.â
Lewis offered a sympathetic smile. âBest advice I can give? Focus on your own performance. If itâs meant to change, it will, could still be a lot of love there in the future. Who knows.â
I nodded, grateful for his words. âThanks, Lewis. Iâll keep that in mind.â
As the trucks rolled through the circuit, the noise of the crowd surrounded us, creating a whirlwind of energy. I waved and smiled, but my mind kept drifting back to Georgeâs âinvestigation.â
Just then, George leaned over again, his voice still hushed. âI have a few more leads, you know. I think the key is in the smaller details.â
Before I could respond, Lando, standing a few meters behind us, called out with a cheeky grin. âMaybe Sherlock should focus on the people who see the little things, those who spend the most time near her during raceweekends.â
I shot him a look, but Lando just winked, clearly enjoying the teasing. âJust a thought,â he added.
Oscar laughed, nudging George. âSounds like Landoâs onto something. Maybe you should listen to him.â
George, undeterred, gave a firm nod. âI am conducting an official investigation here, I will not be phased by the random gibberish coming out of Mr. Norrisâs mouth.â
We all laughed, the banter flowing easily as the parade continued. The crowdâs cheers grew louder, and for a moment, I let myself get swept up in the excitement, pushing thoughts of the admirer and Franco to the back of my mind.
..
The parade had been fun, but as the race drew closer, the atmosphere shifted. There was a something in the air, an underlying tension that grew with every passing minute. The team was busy making final preparations, and the garage was a blur of activityâmechanics checking the cars, engineers pouring over data, and the hum of engines revving in the background.
I made my way to the starting position, taking a moment to clear my head. The race was the focus now, and I had to put everything elseâGeorgeâs ridiculous suspects, Landoâs weird hints, and even the mystery admirerâaside. It was time to focus.
Franco, who qualified p9 and therefore was parked next to me, stood by the car, laughing with a couple of the engineers, his usual charming self. His eyes sparkled, and his energy seemed high. Canât believe he can look this good after such an intense weekend. As always, he was completely at ease with the teamâjust not with me. I watched him for a moment, the distance between us feeling wider than ever. It wasnât that I was angry with him, just... a bit sad.Â
I took a deep breath and walked over, determined to at least wish him good luck before the race. Maybe today would be different.
âHey, Franco,â I said, my voice light but hopeful. âGood luck out there.â
He glanced over at me, looking clearly caught of guard. âYes, thanks,â he replied, his tone polite but clipped. âYou too.â
Before I could say anything else, he turned back to the engineers, diving right into a discussion about strategy. It was like a door closing in my faceâagain.
I stood there for a moment, watching him interact so easily with everyone else. He had the charm, the confidence, those dreamy eyes, the effortless ability to make people like him. So why couldnât we connect? I wasnât asking for much, just a little more than this distant, cold professionalism. But every time I tried, he shut me down.
I sighed, turning away. There was no point in pushing it anymore. Franco wasnât interested, and I couldnât waste energy on something that clearly wasnât going to change.
As I stepped into my car, I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline starting to build. I had a decent starting position, and the car felt good during practice. If I could nail the start and keep things clean, there was a good chance Iâd score some solid points today.
My race engineer gave me a rundown of the strategy, and I nodded along, focusing on the task at hand. The tension was there, but it was the good kindâthe kind that made you want to get out there and fight.
I cast one last glance over at Franco. He was in his element, all smiles and confidence as he chatted with the crew. For a second, I almost envied how easily things seemed to come to him.
I shook off the thoughts of Franco, my mind snapping into race mode. Whatever was going on between usâor rather, wasnât going onâcould wait. I had points to score.
..
The race had been a whirlwind. I was still buzzing with adrenaline as I pulled into the pit lane. It wasnât a podium, but finishing P7 was a solid result, especially considering how tight the midfield battle had been. The car had felt good, and Iâd managed to keep my head down and fight through the chaos of the race. As I unclipped my harness and climbed out of the car, a wave of relief washed over me. Another race down, and points on the board for Williams.
The garage was already alive with celebrationâengineers high-fiving each other, the mechanics cheering for what had been a strong race for the team. Franco had finished P6, just ahead of me, which was a good result for both of us. I caught a glimpse of him surrounded by team members, all smiles as usual, and I felt a twinge of something I couldnât quite place. Not jealousy, but... something else.
As the energy in the garage began to die down, I noticed people slowly filtering out, heading off to unwind or prep for the evening celebration. I lingered, not in any rush, soaking in the post-race energy. Eventually, it was just a few of us left, the hum of the paddock fading into a quiet calm.
With a deep breath, I gathered my things, deciding it was time to head back to my driverâs room to decompress. My body ached from the intensity of the race, and the adrenaline was finally starting to wear off. A hot shower and a moment of peace were exactly what I needed before joining the team later at the cocktail bar.
When I walked into my room, I spotted something that made me stop in my tracks.
On the bench next to my helmet sat another noteâthis time accompanied by a little box from Dior. Curious, I opened the lid, only to find the most stunning, sleek, golden bracelet inside. My heart skipped a beat as I moved closer, picking up the delicate piece of jewelry. The bracelet was simple but elegant, with a small star charm that caught the light as I held it in my hand. This wasnât just another gesture. This felt differentâmore intimate.
With shaky hands, I unfolded the note, the familiar handwriting almost calming in its neatness.
"You were a star out there. Wish I could see you smile like this every day."
I sat down, holding the bracelet in one hand and the note in the other, a mixture of emotions washing over me. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture, the subtle encouragementâit all felt so personal. Whoever this person was, they saw me in ways that most people didnât. The bracelet wasnât just a gift; it was a reminder that someone out there was paying attention to more than just my results.
I smiled softly to myself, but after a moment, I carefully placed the bracelet back into its little Dior box. It felt too precious, too delicate to wear just yet.Â
I glanced around the room, half-expecting someone to step out from the shadows with a confession. But of course, I was alone. The puzzle pieces were there, but the final picture still felt elusive. I couldnât shake the feeling that I was getting closer to figuring it out.
With the note tucked safely in my pocket and the box in hand, I left the room, ready to head to the team celebration.
As I left the room and stepped into the paddock, I nearly bumped into Kym Illman, who was walking by with his camera slung over his shoulder.
âY/N! Just the person I was hoping to catch,â Kym said, grinning as he stopped in front of me. âMind if I grab a quick post-race shot? Gotta capture that afterglow.â
I blinked, still feeling a bit dazed from everything that had happened, but I forced a smile and nodded. âYeah, sure. Go for it.â
Kym raised his camera, the familiar sound of the shutter snapping away as I stood there, trying to focus on anything other than the Dior box in my hand. The camera clicks were rhythmic, but I could feel the weight of the small box growing heavier by the second. Just as he lowered the camera, Kymâs eyes flicked down to the box.
âYou got a little gift,â he commented casually, gesturing toward it with a nod. His easygoing smile remained in place, like he didnât realize he was about to drop a bomb. âFrom Franco, right?â
I froze, the words hitting me like a sudden gust of wind. My pulse quickened, and I stared at him, my mind struggling to process what heâd just said. âFranco...?â
Kym, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me, shrugged casually. âYeah, I saw him going into your room after the race, carrying that little box. I assumed it was something from him for you. Itâs good to see things are smoothing outbetween you two.â
He smiled again, a little too cheerfully, completely oblivious to the turmoil his words had caused. I forced a shaky smile in return, the reality of his comment sinking in slowly, like ice water trickling down my spine.
Franco had dropped off the bracelet. Franco had been in my room. Franco had been leaving me the notes and the giftsâthis entire time?
My thoughts spiraled, trying to match the Franco I knewâthe one who could barely hold a conversation with me, who always kept his distanceâwith the person behind these thoughtful, personal gestures. How could the same person be so cold and yet so considerate? None of it made sense. But then again, he was always around, like Lando hinted at.
âI, uh... will see you next week,â I finally managed to say, my voice coming out shakier than Iâd intended.
Kym, still completely unaware of the bombshell heâd just dropped, gave an easygoing smile. âGreat race today. Youâre looking strong out there. Iâll see you around.â
With that, he waved and walked off, leaving me standing there, rooted to the spot. The guy who had barely acknowledged me for months, who had given me the cold shoulder in every single interaction, was the same person who had been leaving me these incredibly thoughtful, sweet notes?
I looked down at the Dior box in my hand, the logo glinting in the fading light of the evening. The weight of the bracelet inside felt heavier now, the realization settling in like a lead weight in my chest. It was Franco. What the hell?
But if it was him, why had he been so distant? Why couldnât he just say something instead of hiding behind anonymous notes and secret gifts?
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was no point in overthinking it now. I needed answers, and there was only one person who could give them to me.
Tonight, I was going to find Franco, and I was going to get to the bottom of this.
..
The cocktail bar slowly filled with the sounds of celebration. Laughter and the sound of clinking glasses travelled through the room as the Williams team reveled in the success of the race. The low lighting cast a warm glow over the bar, making it feel intimate, even amidst the lively chatter. I stepped inside, the gold bracelet glimmering softly on my wrist. The weight of it felt significant, not because of its size, but because of what it represented. Tonight, I needed answers, and I had a plan.
Franco stood near the bar, surrounded by a few engineers, his easy smile making him the center of attention, as always. He laughed at something one of the guys said, and for a moment, I watched him, still trying to reconcile the Franco I thought I knew with the one who had left me those thoughtful notes that made my stomach flutter. My fingers brushed the bracelet, and I felt a twinge of nervous energy rush through me.
I took a deep breath and made my way across the room toward him, my heart pounding as I rehearsed what I might say. The crowd seemed to blur as I neared, and suddenly it was just the two of us in this noisy, lively place.
âFranco,â I called out, keeping my voice light, though every nerve in my body was tingling.
He turned toward me, his green eyes immediately darting to my wrist. The moment they landed on the bracelet, a flicker of recognition passed through his expressionâa quick joyful spark that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. But it was enough. That slight hesitation, the twinkle in his eyeâit was all I needed to know.
âHey,â he said, his voice a little too calm, a little too composed. âCongrats on the race today. P7 is a solid finish.â
I forced a smile, stepping closer. âThanks. P6 isnât bad either. You were brilliant out there.â
He nodded, but I noticed his gaze flicker back to the bracelet again, like he couldnât help himself. That spark was back in his eyes, and this time, it lingered.
âYeah, thanks,â he said, his voice a little quieter now.
His response was automatic, his words almost an afterthought. His attention wasnât on the conversationâit was on my wrist, the bracelet. He couldnât hide it.
I smiled knowingly. âDo you like my new bracelet?â
Franco blinked, his composure slipping for a second. âItâs, uh... nice. Gold, right?â His voice wavered ever so slightly, like he was trying too hard to sound indifferent.
I tilted my head, taking a step closer. âYes, so pretty isnât it? Someone gave it to me after the race.â
He nervously tried his best to look away and avoid my gaze, suppressing what seemed to be a proud smile. âOh, thatâs... thoughtful.â
I raised an eyebrow, watching him squirm. âIt was, wasnât it?â
The space between us felt charged, the air thick with tension. I waited, giving him a chance to come clean, but he stayed silent, his eyes glued to the bracelet.
He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever words heâd planned to use were lost. I couldnât wait any longer. Grabbing his arm, I gently pulled him away from the group, toward the quieter, dimly lit corner in the bar, just out of sight. Franco didnât resist, though I could feel the stiffness in his movements.
Once we were tucked away from prying eyes, I let go of his arm and turned to face him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the wall. âFranco, it was you, wasnât it? The notes, the flowers, the braceletâitâs all been you.â
Franco shifted uncomfortably, his usual confidence completely gone. He avoided my gaze, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit I hadnât noticed before. âWhat? NoâI donâtââ He faltered, the words tumbling out awkwardly. âI mean, Iââ
I stepped closer, cutting him off with a raised eyebrow. âFranco.â
I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. He glanced around, as if hoping for some sort of escape, but when none came, he finally met my eyes. âI didnât know how else to... say anything,â he murmured. âItâs stupid, I know. Weâre teammates, and I shouldâve justââ
âWhat did you want to say?â I asked, my voice soft but firm.
 âYouâre all I can think about,â he blurted out, the words unfiltered. âEvery single day.â
I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his confession. Francoâs face softened as he continued, his voice quiet but steady.
âIâve been trying to act like I donât care, like Iâm just focused on the race and nothing else, but... itâs you. Itâs always been you.â
My breath caught as his words sank in, but he didnât stop there. He took a step closer, his voice lowering.
âYou have no idea what you do to me, cariĂąo,â he said, his eyes searching mine. âI love the way every time weâre eating something and you have the first bite and it is really good, actually goodâlike, not just passable, you crunch your nose up a little bit. It is so cute.â
He smiled slightly, the vulnerability in his voice clear as he kept going. âAnd after a good session, when you pull your helmet off, and your hairâs all over the place, but you donât care because youâre too busy hopping from foot to foot, like you canât hold in how excited you are. You think no one notices, but I do. Itâs adorable, and it drives me crazy.â
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as he took another step closer, his voice barely more than a whisper now.
He stepped closer, his green eyes locking onto mine, more earnest than Iâd ever seen them. âEven when youâre just standing there, doing nothing, you have this way of making me completely forget about everything else. Just watching you makes me lose my mind.â
I couldnât help but beam at that, the sweetness of his words breaking through the tension. Franco glanced down, shaking his head slightly as if embarrassed.
âI thought if I stayed away, maybe it would stop, but it didnât. So... I left the notes. The flowers. The bracelet. Because I didnât know how else to say it.â
âYouâve cared all along,â I whispered, more a statement than a question. My heart was racing like there was a V12 engine hidden inside of it.
Franco nodded, his green eyes locking onto mine with such intensity it made my breath hitch. âI have. But weâre supposed to be competing for that number one seat, and I didnât want to make it more difficult... with how I feel about you.â
His confession hung in the air between us, raw and real. The weirdness, the tensionâit had all been leading to this moment.
I stepped even closer, until our bodies were almost touching, my voice soft. âFranco, you didnât have to hide it. You couldâve just told me.â
For a moment, neither of us moved, the space between us charged with everything we hadnât said. But now, with nothing left unsaid, I closed the gap, standing on my toes as I pressed my lips to his.
Franco froze for a second, caught off guard, but then he responded, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. It was slow at first, tentative, like we were both afraid to break the moment. But as the seconds passed, the kiss grew more urgent, more real, like all the months of tension were finally being released.
His hands tightened on my waist as he kissed me back, the heat between us growing with each passing second. My heart raced as I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, hungry, like we were making up for lost time..
Francoâs hand slid up my side, as he moved to cradle my face. His thumb grazed my cheek, and I felt my breath hitch, a shiver running down my spine as the kiss intensified. His lips were warm, firm, moving against mine with an urgency that sent a thrill through my entire body. I kissed him back with just as much passion, feeling flutters in my stomach.
My back hit the wall, and the feel of him pressed against me made my pulse race even faster. There was nothing tentative about the way he kissed me nowâhis lips demanding, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. He broke the kiss for just a second, only to dive back in, like he couldnât get enough.
But this time, instead of his lips finding mine again, they traveled down, brushing along my jaw and moving to my neck. The feel of his breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, my heart pounding in anticipation. His lips found the sensitive spot just below my ear, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that made me gasp quietly.
Francoâs hands found my waist again, softly fidgeting with the hem of my top and touching the bare skin below, as he trailed his soft lips against the curve of my neck. The combination of his touch and his breath was intoxicating, and I tilted my head back, giving him more access, my body responding instinctively to the way he explored my skin. His lips lingered there, slow and teasing, each kiss sending little jolts of electricity through me.
I could feel his breath hitch as he pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against my neck as he murmured, âYouâre making it impossible to think straight.â
Before I could even respond, he found my lips again, the kiss deeper this time, more heated than before. His hands moved up, combing through my hair, pulling me closer as his lips moved with a hunger that made my knees weak. I kissed him back just as fiercely, losing myself in the feel of him.Â
 It was overwhelmingâin the best possible way. Every nerve in my body was on fire, responding to every little movement, every brush of his lips. Who knew Franco could feel so good?
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I realized I hadnât even noticed the noise of the bar fading around us, the rest of the world disappearing for that brief moment. Francoâs forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling as we tried to catch them.
He didnât say anything at first, his eyes still closed, like he was savoring the moment. And I understood that, because I was too. There wasnât any need for words.
After a few beats, Franco finally opened his eyes, his gaze soft but intense. âIâve wanted to do that for a long time,â he murmured, his voice rough around the edges.
âWas it worth the wait?â I teased, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.
His eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a grin. âMore than you know.â
He leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against my forehead, lingering there for a moment as I closed my eyes and let the warmth of it settle between us.
I smiled up at him, still catching my breath. âI am so happy youâre not the tire guy.â
Franco blinked, a puzzled look crossing his face. âThe... tire guy?â
I chuckled, shaking my head as I leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. âDonât worry about it,â I whispered against his mouth, enjoying his confusion. âYouâll catch on eventually.â
#f1 x reader#fc43 x reader#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fanfic
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i think franco did a wonderful job today !! he absolutely killed it and he should be proud of himself . i'm genuinely really glad to see that he's being treated well by williams and is getting the support a driver needs and deserves in this sport .
i also think what should be remembered is that logan didn't get to drive the same car franco is driving right now . and on top of that , jv's "support" of logan this year has been incredible fake and killed logan's confidence . he quite honestly didn't have a proper support system within that team .
franco is driving the williams car with all the upgrades , the same one alex has . logan was forced to drive a car with parts from 2023 . both the front wing and rear wing were from 2023 . a car that was overweight by 15 kilos (33 lbs) . a car that was already bad and only was made worse by the fact that it didn't have the same upgrades as alex did . a car that was absolutely impossible to drive and constantly had problems -- remember how often logan's steering wheel was messed up ??
logan's possibilities of an amazing performance were overshadowed by a car that would get upgrades only to have them promptly taken away . they were overshadowed by the fact that no one -- not even the goddamn commentators , whose JOB is to do the research that we are doing -- could properly do their research on what kind of a tractor logan was driving . everyone was under the immediate impression that logan had the same car as alex when that was the furthest thing from the truth .
and now franco is driving a car that is , indeed , finally equal to alex's car . a car that finally has all the upgrades . of course it's amazing that he's matching alex's pace and i am genuinely so happy for him for that ! but it should also be remembered that he's driving a car that is leagues better from what logan had to drive .
the way that everyone is automatically turning around to talk bad about logan and say "look !! look !! this guy is doing better than logan ever could do !! see !! logan does suck !!" is unfair to logan and shows a lack of proper research . it's truly gobsmacking to see how everyone jumps on the logan hate train and yet they refuse to do any substantial research to understand that logan was driving in a car that no driver could possibly succeed in .
i truly do hope that people realize in the future , specifically the near future , that logan was not treated properly this year . that people realize how logan was constantly given a shit hand and told to make something out of it when that was impossible considering the state the car -- and the team , i mean look at how they messed up with alex today ??? -- was in .
like don't even get me started on how williams messed up with alex today . that was just embarrassing on the team's end . absolutely insane what these drivers have to deal with .
#f1#logan sargeant#formula 1#formula one#williams racing#logan sargeant rants#he deserves the world#venus defends logan đŚš*ŕŠâ§ đź âËđ#venus rants about f1 âđâËâšâĄ#pissed off ab this#like can everyone STOP comparing them#their situations are not the same#and i will die on that hill#ready to fight everyone for logan tbh#ls2#franco colapinto
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Toto Wolff with wife reader. Her being mother to the young drivers on the grid, well literally everyone and their son, Jack was adored by them all. He would always find her with the company of drivers and have to steal her away even for a kiss(es). Thanks!! :))
Hii guys I hope you enjoy my take on this request :)
People would often assume that Toto Wolff is the most popular Wolff on the paddock, him being Mercedes's team principal, but they couldn't be more far from the truth.
Toto sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as he scanned the busy paddock. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was to find his wife and spend some time together. But you were nowhere to be found, and that was starting to worry him.
"Jack, have you seen your mom? I can't seem to find her anywhere in the motorhome," Toto asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
Jack, his son, shook his head. "No, Dad. I've also been looking for her. The last time I saw her, she told me someone had requested her on the paddock." Jackâs face mirrored his fatherâs frustration. âSheâs been all over the place today. Itâs like everyone wants her time!â
Toto frowned, his brow furrowing with concern. "Alright, letâs start asking around. Someone must have seen her." He put a reassuring hand on Jack's shoulder and they headed towards the nearest person they could findâGeorge Russell, who was chatting with some engineers by the Mercedes garage.
âHey, George!â Toto called out, his accent thick with concern. âHave you seen my wife?â
George looked up, smiling. âYeah, I saw her earlier. She was with Alex and Lily over by the Williams motorhome. They seemed to be having a good laugh about something.â
Toto nodded, thanking George, and he and Jack quickly made their way over to the Williams area. As they approached, they spotted Alex Albon leaning against the wall, his girlfriend Lily close by.
âAlex! Lily!â Jack called out. âHave you seen my mom? George said she was with you guys.â
Alex grinned, looking sheepish. âOh, yeah! We were just talking to her about some fun paddock stories. But then the McLaren boys came over and whisked her away. They said they needed her opinion on something. You know how they are!â
Toto let out a small chuckle. Your friendly nature and warm personality made you incredibly popular with everyone. "Thanks, Alex," he said, giving a nod to Lily as well.
With a determined stride, Toto and Jack moved towards the McLaren motorhome. They were greeted by the sight of Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri playfully bantering by the entrance.
âLando! Oscar!â Toto called, waving them over. âHave you seen my wife?â
Lando grinned widely. âOh, Mrs. Wolff? Yeah, she was here just a minute ago. We were showing her some of our latest memes, but then Carlos showed up and said he needed her help with some media stuff.â
Jack groaned playfully. âUgh, are we ever going to catch up to her?â
Oscar laughed. âSorry, Jack! Your momâs just too popular! But if you hurry, you might catch them over at Ferrari.â
Toto thanked them and led Jack towards the Ferrari garage, the bright red unmistakable in the sea of colors around the paddock. As they approached, they saw Carlos Sainz laughing with a group of engineers, but you were nowhere in sight.
âCarlos!â Toto called, a bit out of breath. âWhereâs my wife? The boys said you had her over here.â
Carlos turned, a charming smile on his face. âAh, Mr Wolff! Yes, she was here helping me out, but then Charles came by with Alexandra and asked if she could join them for a bit. Something about needing some advice on their dog, Leo.â
Jackâs eyes widened. âOf course, Leo! Mom can never resist a dog.â
Toto chuckled, ruffling Jackâs hair. âAlright, looks like weâre off to find Charles then.â
Finally, they made their way to a quieter area of the paddock where they spotted Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra sitting on a bench. Next to them, you were kneeling on the ground, happily playing with Leo, their playful dog.
âMom!â Jack called out, rushing towards you.
You looked up, surprised but smiling brightly. âThere you two are! I was wondering when youâd catch up.â
Toto sighed in relief, a smile spreading across his face as he watched Jack throw his arms around you. "There you are, my love. Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you?â
You laughed softly, standing up and brushing off your jeans. âIâm sorry, Toto! Everyone just seemed to need me for something today. But it was all fun!â
Charles grinned, giving a nod to Toto. âSorry for keeping her so long. We just got caught up talking about dogs, and you know how it goes.â
Alexandra smiled, giving Leo a pat. âSheâs been great company, but weâll let you have her back now.â
Toto and Jack both thanked Charles and Alexandra, and as they turned to leave, Toto gently took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a tender kiss. "Iâve missed you," he murmured softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth. "I think Jack and I could use some time with you now."
Jack nodded eagerly. âYeah, Mom! Can we just have some time with you? Weâve been looking everywhere.â
You smiled, squeezing both their hands. âOf course, my boys. Iâm all yours now.â
Together, the three of you walked away from the busy paddock, Toto wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and Jack holding onto your other hand. It was a perfect, wholesome moment of togethernessâa reminder that no matter how popular you were in the paddock, your heart always belonged with them.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1#toto wolff#toto wolff imagine#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff x y/n
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Nobody's doing it like Otto Chriek. He's a vampire who has sworn off drinking b-word. He likes hanging out in cellars and hanging from chandeliers. Photography is his passion, and his passion is painful and comes with a high risk of discorporation. He experiments with dark light and philosophizes about the nature of time. He figures out how to create photo plates with hardly any effort. He invents the three-color printing process. He designs a method to auto-reanimate himself. He lays down his life for the team (but then picks it up again*).
*(yes this is a joke from the book, all credit to Sir Terry)
William caught Sacharissa's gaze. Her look said it all: We've hired him. Have we got the heart to fire him now? And don't make fun of his accent unless your Uberwaldean is really good, okay? -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"Vell?" he said sternly. "Vot you all looking at? It is just a normal reaction, zat is all. I am vorking on it. Light in all itz forms is mine passion. Light is my canvas, shadows are my brush." "But strong light hurts you!" said Sacharissa. "It hurts vampires!" "Yes. It iss a bit of a bugger, but zere you go." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
William vaguely remembered something someone had once said: the only thing more dangerous than a vampire crazed with blood lust was a vampire crazed with anything else. All the meticulous single-mindedness that went into finding young women who slept with their bedroom door open got channeled into some other interest, with merciless and painstaking efficiency. -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"Good mornink," said Otto. "Do not movink, please, you are making a good pattern of light and shade." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"I cannot promise an absolutely vunderful job first cat out of zer bag, off course." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"Bodrozvachski zhaltziet! âŚoh, sorry, Miss Sacharissa! Zere has been a minor pothole on zer road to progressâŚ" -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"Zer philosopher Heidehollen tells us zat the universe is just a cold soup of time, all time mixed up together, and vot we call zer passage of time is merely qvantum fluctuations in zer fabric of space-time." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
(Sounds kind of like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff...)
"It [dark light] is a light without time. Vot it illuminates, you see . . . is not necessarily now." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
"You vanted color, I gif you color," said Otto sulkily. "You never said qvick." -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
A couple of bits that are more spoilerish under the cut:
That thing where Otto screams and (sometimes) turns to ash when he takes a picture is particularly funny if you imagine it from the point of view of the unwitting photographic subject, in this case Cheery Littlebottom:
"Ah, a vonderful framing effect!" said Otto, who'd been on the other side of the door. Click! William shut his eyes. WHOOMPH. "Ohhbuggerrrrr . . ." This time William caught the little piece of paper before it hit the ground. The dwarf stood open-mouthed. Then she closed her mouth. Then she opened it again to say: "What the hell just happened?" "I suppose you could call it a sort of industrial injury," said William. -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
And the scene where Otto goes up against William's father is just a thing of beauty.
"Ve have people like you back home," he said. "Zey are the ones that tell the mob vot to do. I come here to Ankh-Morpork, zey tell me things are different, but really it is alvays the same. Always zere are damn people like you! And now, vot shall I do with you?" [...] "You think I bite him? Shall I bite you, Mister Lordship? Vell, maybe not, because Villiam here thinks I am a good person." He pulled Lord de Worde close, so their faces were a few inches apart. "Now, maybe I have to ask myself, how good am I? Or maybe I just have to ask myself⌠am I better zan you?" He hesitated for a second or two, and then in a sudden movement jerked the man towards him. With great delicacy, he planted a kiss on Lord de Worde's forehead. Then he put the trembling man back down on the floor and patted him on the head. -- Terry Pratchett, The Truth
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Two Clicks Away
streamer!ellie x streamer!reader
cw: fluff??? idk tbh but mainly js ellie being a loser
When ellie first started out on twitch she didnt have much followers nor viewers. she would sit at her shitty setup playing mainly resident evil 4 and fortnite. she would mainly just be talking to herself cursing out little kids when they killed her. ellie quickly grew over time getting over 500k followers and she had girls practically going FERAL over her âdominate me- WOAH THEREâ
during her 500k special stream, she was going through the videos all her viewers sent her some were⌠questionable. she was sent a video of you. it was a clip from one of your streams basically just you yapping, a viewer in the chat asked you about your opinion on ellie â thoughts on ellie williams? yeah sheâs great! i really enjoy her minecraft and animal crossing streams, itâs so funny watching her rage over tom nookâ you were laughing and the clip was basically you fangirling over her you face read and stumbling over your words.
ellies face was RED. she was blushing so much and she trying to hold back her nervous giggles, the truth is that she has had a massive crush on you ever since you started growing enjoying all your streams watching them all too nervous tp talk in the chat. what she didn't know is that you watched al her streams too.
the clip of Ellie getting all flustered on stream was going around on instagram, twitter, tumblr, reddit, anywhere she had a fans on really. it soon caught your attention and you saw how nervous she got at the clip so you decided to dm her on insta
bugwbitess: hey :)
what ellie didn't know is that you have such a huge crush on her keeping a folder of edits of ellie on you tik tok. ellie was doing a stream of shitty roblox horror games and she was scared out of her mind but wouldnât let her viewers know. she saw the notification âbugbitess sent you a message.â she was taking a break when you sent her the message âhack⌠fuck.. cough⌠oh shit.. wheeze..â
after the brief moment of panicking she soon mustered up the courage to reply and tried to seem like she didnt just almost choke because a cute girl was in her dms.
dinodestroyer: heyyy
âfuck was that too many yâs?â she mumbled to herself almost shaking holding her phone. âsorry about that chat iâm backâ she says with an awkward chuckle and going back to the game.
the second you saw her message your face heated up red. you had no idea how much she was panicking and she had no idea how much you were too. âwhy the fuck are there so many yâs?â you say a loud with a slight giggle. you thought it was cute like she was nervous or something.
bugbitess: by any chance would you be interested in a colab? ik itâs a long shot but itâll be fun :)
you thought it was probably very straight forward and soon but fuck it you like her and youâre pretty sure she likes you.
đŚ
ellie didnât reply for a while, first off because she wanted to finish her stream, secondly because she wanted to seem like she wasnât waiting desperately by the phone (looking back at that she realizes that was probably a dick move). when she did reply it was 2 am so she was surprised to see you awake.
dinodestroyer: yeah ofc i would love that! when were you thinking of?
bugbitess: minecraft sound good?
dinodestroyer: sounds great iâll call you on disc tomorrow 8 pm :)
bugbitess: see you then!
the truth is that ellie really hated minecraft. like seriously rage quits it too much for a healthy amount.. but since it was a cute girl asking her she of course had to say yes.
the next day when you guys started up the stream the chat was so confused âokay so bugbites is here and weâre playing minecraft today which iâm extremely good atâ ellie says proudly and you just laugh âsure you areâ you say starting up the game.
âdude what the fuck is thi- AGHH!â ellie screeched her voice cracking, you were saving her from a zombie spawner trying your best not to fold over laughing.
after a few hours of playing together ellie finally rage quit because she suffocated in gravel, âyou shouldnât be able to drown in gravel thatâs just stupid!â she complained. âcalm down itâs video game logicâ you giggle .you guys end the stream but stay on call a little longer just to talk. âellie?â you ask while she was drawing doing her own thing âyeah?â
âwould you like to go out with me?â
an: erm so this is my first time writing an actual one shot so please be nice. I LOVE HER SM OMG OMG KMG
#tlou2#ellie williams#the last of us#ellie tlou#tlou ellie#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x reader#streamer!ellie
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1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 5.9k
Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)
The Unicorn Masterlist
âSheâs perfect, Harry.â His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.
âI donât know. Sheâs taking care of the kids every day while weâre at work. How does that make her perfect?â
âBecause look at her! And sheâs so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet sheâs kinky under it all. And havenât you seen the way she looks at you?â
He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldnât help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.
But just because you were cute and couldnât help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didnât mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.
Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since sheâd slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought heâd jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.
âI think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is likeâŚâ he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, â⌠the worst. What if you donât like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I donât know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.â
âHarry,â she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, âYou and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. Iâm already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legsâŚâ She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, âYou dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out andââ
âMom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.â
Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. Theyâd be returning to their conversation later.
.          .          .
You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.
âMorning, Y/n,â Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.
âMorning Mr. StylesâŚâ you laughed and patted Warnerâs back, âand you too Warner.â
Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.
Of course, you said youâd love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldnât mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy youâd ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didnât stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.
And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. Youâd only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.
So yeah, youâd accept their invitation for dinner.
.          .          .
âWilliam made a picture today,â you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.
He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, âWhoâs this, Will?â
âItâs Y/n,â he gestured to you.
Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.
When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that heâd finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.
âWarner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?â
When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadnât meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If youâd been thinking youâd have said â⌠supposed to tell your dad today?â Even the twins didnât call Harry Daddy anymore.
And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part heâd learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while youâd fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didnât mean to say it out loud.
Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.
Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.
You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.
Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.
With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.
Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wifeâs praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasnât just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.
You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, âThank you. So much. Iâm really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.â
Kitâs hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.
âHoney, youâre coming on too strong,â Harry chided his wife.
âNo, Iâm not. Iâm just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I justâŚâ she looked at you, âYou donât mind this do you?â
You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didnât know any better youâd say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.
âItâs fine. I know youâre just being friendly.â
Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wifeâs name in a warning, âKit. Are you sure you want to do this?â
You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didnât know if youâd missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.
âIf sheâs up for it then yes, Iâm sure.â
âUp for what?â You questioned them both.
Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, âIâll let you do the honors.â
Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, âWe think youâre very sweet and pretty, Y/n.â Kit began.
You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but sheâd been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harryâs crotch, you couldnât help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.
âAnd we think you might be fun toâŚâ she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, âHave in bed. For us to share.â
You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, âTo share.â
That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then youâd have to determine if it was worth it.
âYou donât have to say yes, Y/n.â Harry chimed in, âI know youâre a really sweet girl and you donât want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we wonât be upset. You wonât lose your job.â
You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.
âSo, youâre like asking me to have aâŚâ you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, âlike a threesome with you?â
âYes. You donât have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you donât have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. Weâre very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think weâd all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.â
The subject was changed shortly after. Theyâd done their part. Theyâd asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.
âI hope you donât feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.â Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.
âThank you. I just need some time to think.â
She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.
When youâd all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didnât know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which youâd definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldnât be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their⌠what was it called? A unicorn? Â
You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadnât had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe thatâs how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.
.          .          .
The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadnât just asked if youâd want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.
But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. Thatâs when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.
He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like youâd dissolve.
He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, âYou wouldnât want to stay for a drink would you?â
The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.
You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, âYes. Okay.â
You felt nervous. Harryâs grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.
The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.
âWhen will Mrs. Styles come home?â It was rare that they werenât home at nearly the same time after work.
âSheâs going out with a friend tonight. Sheâll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. Iâm glad you did.â
You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasnât something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.
You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.
âSo, what are your plans this weekend?â Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.
âUh⌠I donât have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,â you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.
âMaybe if you find youâre free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.â
âOh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as itâs not imposing,â you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didnât care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.
âOf course, you wouldnât be imposing. Youâd be the guest of honor,â Harryâs arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.
âOh, thatâsâŚâ you breathed out a jittery laugh, â⌠not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.â
âI hope you know that anything that happens, weâd always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.â
You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how heâd inched his way a bit closer.
âThank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.â
You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.
His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe youâd feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wifeâs convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.
Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadnât felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didnât mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.
âWeâd like to be more than just nice to you, darling,â his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. âBut you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?â
You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harryâs thumb slide up your neck. Harryâs cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, âI think it sounds really fun. The offer. Iâve never been with a woman.â
He licked his lips, âYouâve experienced men, then, yeah?â
You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.
âWhat do you like, Y/n?â
You had not expected the conversation to go this way, âI donât⌠Iâm not sure. Iâve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,â you laughed your words in embarrassment.
Harryâs soft petting on your neck continued, âThatâs okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, weâve never done anything like this either.â
âAnd Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?â
Harry nodded, âYes. This was her idea actually. Sheâs been missing a feminine presence in bed.â
You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, âIs this okay?â
You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldnât dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.
Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, âIâd like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?â
His lips felt like theyâd burst into flames if he didnât press them into yours. But he couldnât do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it heâd take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.
âOkay,â you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.
âYeah?â He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, âGo into my bedroom. Iâll be right there.â
You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that theyâd play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldnât even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.
âAre you okay?â Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldnât help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.
âIâm just nervous. Iâm always like this the first timeâŚâ You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.
âThatâs okay,â Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, âIâm a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didnât want the boys to see.â
You nodded in understanding, âAnd itâs okay with Mrs. Styles?â
His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, âHer idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.â
Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and youâd seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.
But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldnât get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until heâd practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.
His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.
You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.
âY/n⌠Fuck honeyâŚâ he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, âCan I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,â his words were deep and thick, âThatâs for Saturday. But for now,â he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, âI can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.â
âYes, Harry,â you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.
âI really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?â
See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.
âIs that okay? I mean,â you sighed breathily, âWill Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?â
âI donât think sheâll mind,â Harry licked his lips, âTell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? Iâll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she wonât care but if she doesnât like it we wonât do it again.â
You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.
Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, âHow does this feel? Is this okay?â
It was a first for you. To have someoneâs hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.
âItâs good,â you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.
It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.
Harryâs hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, âCan we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?â
You nodded, âYes,â and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.
With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. Youâd paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.
Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, âDo you need help with this?â
He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.
His hands found your calves as he looked at you, âYouâre so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.â
So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harryâs hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, âBeautiful. Can I take your panties off?â His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing youâd be saying yes.
You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.
Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, âYou still doing okay, Y/n?â
You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.
You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.
âWant my fingers, honey?â
The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and heâd feel your wetness.
âYes, Daddy.â
Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, âOh I really like how that sounds. Letâs have a look then,â he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, âYou all wet for Daddy?â
The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.
âYes,â you bit your lip.
With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.
He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.
When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.
You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, âThere we go. Feels good doesnât it?â
You panted yesssss.
The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didnât feel so good.
âPlease,â you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, âI wanna see.â
Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, âYou can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.â
You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.
âYouâre gonna grip me so tight and Iâm gonna push inside you deep,â he punctuated his words with his thrusts, âHave you creaming all over my cock.â
Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.
He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel youâd all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.
Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.
He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.
You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, âIf I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?â
 Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.
âDaddy, pleaseâŚâ you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.
âWhat baby?â The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.
âMâgonna come⌠Daddy, ffuuâ ohhh!â Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.
Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldnât wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure heâd want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasnât too greedy with you.
âSuch a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.â He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.
âThis what you needed? Needed to come on Daddyâs fingers?â Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.
âJust imagine how good itâs gonna feel on my cock.â He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.
Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldnât wait to get a taste.
Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, âHow was that?â
âSo good,â you were still taking in labored breaths.
His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.
A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.
âIâm sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,â his voice was deep and breathy. âYou okay?â
âMmhmm,â you nodded and smiled.
Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.
You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldnât go against his Kitâs wishes.
âSo, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?â Harry handed you the clothes heâd picked up from the floor and his bed.
âYeah. Iâd like to.â
Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, âGood. Iâm glad to hear that.â
He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like youâd just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.
âIâll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.â
âOkay. Thank you, Daââ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, âHa- Harry.â
The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didnât mind, âNight, sweet girl.â
Part 2
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đđđŻđ¨đđ˘đ¨đ§ || william killick x reader
đŹđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛ || your husband sometimes gets carried away with his devotion to you...
đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ || 3.7k
đ°đđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ || noncon/heavy dubcon smut (18+ only!!! rough sex, breeding kink, marking kink, hair pulling, praise and degradation, dark but the reader is lowkey into it lmaooo), jealousy and possessiveness, yandere vibes?, gaslighting/manipulation, established relationship, alcohol consumption
"Heavens, you look stunning!" Gordon announced when he saw you, opening his arms wide as an invitation for an embrace. You only went in for a quick hug, but he grabbed you tight and kissed the top of your head as you laughed delightfully. "Doesn't she look ravishing? Don't I have excellent taste?"
The other ladies nearby nodded in agreement, hanging off of him like they tended to. That was the way Gordon was: magnetic, for his personality just as much as his looks. Blonde curls with light brown eyes and that megawatt smile⌠as long as you'd known him, he'd never had trouble with ladiesâ he just made trouble for them.
"Aren't I the greatest literary agent you ever had?" he asked you, and you rolled your eyes.
"You're the only I've ever had," you reminded him. "You represented me when I was a teenage girl trying to sell my assignments from secondary school!"
"Yes, so I win by default," he decided with a big kiss to your cheek that made you scrunch up your nose.
"But that makes you the worst I ever had, too, doesn't it?" you noticed as Gordon relaxed his embrace to just an arm around your waist.
"See?" he prompted the nearby women, "Didn't I tell you? Can't get anything past this oneâ sharp as a whip, she isâ"
As you shrugged in dismissal of the praise, you looked around the room in awe of all Gordon had done for you now. He had a taste for the extravagant, clearly; truth be told, it was nothing like you'd pictured it, and nothing like what you'd asked him for when he insisted on throwing a party.
"So, please, drink up, be merry, all of that," Gordon instructed his ladies, motioning out towards the crowded room, "get properly sloppy if you mustâ all in honour of this lovely woman right here⌠a genius of writing, and one of my longest and dearest friends."
As they departed in search of free drinks, you turned to Gordon with a nervous frown. "I'm not sure this is really all for me, Gordy," you sighed.
"Of course it is," he chuckled heartily, "I told you I'd throw something to celebrate another year of us working togetherâ I wanted to have a gala for your novel's first publishing, but you were too busy on the honeymoon thenâ"
You smiled just at the mention of your honeymoon.
"All these people, doll, they're here for you," Gordon assured.
"The people, maybe; but the evening wear, the drinks, the music, the glamour? That's for you, isn't it?" you smirked.
But before he could respond to the accusation, his eyes fell somewhere at the other end of the room, and he turned you to look the same way. "Speaking of people here for youâŚ" he trailed off.
You perked up when you saw William, slipping through the crowds of people, already approaching you with his hat tucked under his arm.
"You came!" you squealed with excitement as you jumped towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "Oh, dear," you sighed when you saw that you'd printed berry-red lipstick on his cheek, starting to wipe it off with your fingers.
"I couldn't miss it, of course," he smiled at you, his voice so soft you barely heard it over the hustle and bustle of the party.
"They shouldn't have let you in," Gordon said, making you both look back at him. "It's black tie only, you know."
William smiled slightly with his lips pressed together. "He's only joking," you realised with an awkward mumble.
"The uniform seemed to go over alright," William replied, sticking his hand out towards Gordon for a shake.
"Oh, don't be so formal," Gordon laughed as he yanked William into rough side-hug. "We know each other, don't we?"
"Sort of," William answered under his breath as Gordon put a heavy handâ adorned with golden decorative ringsâ on his shoulder. Â
"Though I've half a mind to rough you up for convincing my star author to publish her next book under her married name," Gordon continued with a haughty laugh. "She's already so established with the maiden name!"
"I didn't convince her of anything, I only married her," William defended. Â
"Never thought you'd manage to tie this one down," Gordon smirked, "independent as she is."
"She didn't put up too much of a fight," William winked at you, and you felt a little flushed as you blinked quickly.
Apparently tired with that line of conversation, Gordon stood beside you and flipped it back to the real topic of the evening: your writing.
âSheâs quite a prodigy!â Gordon exclaimed with a wide grin, wrapping an arm around you, then. âYouâve read what she writes, haven't you?â
âSome of it,â William admitted with a nervous laugh, looking down for a moment. âThe rest is too sad for me, Iâm afraid.â
âHer latest is a masterpiece,â Gordon assured. âForbidden love, secrets, affairsââ
âSordid stuff,â William frowned, shaking his head.
âSells, though,â Gordon winked. âMen and womenâ weâre even selling copies in America!â
William only nodded, not seeming too convinced, and you deflated slightly as you reached out for your husbandâs hand. âArenât you proud of me?â you asked, sounding much more pathetic than you meant to.
âOf course, darling,â he smiled at you, âalways.â
âYou donât mind if I borrow your lovely wife again, do you?â Gordon beamed. âThereâs some people over there she should meetâ they might just sponsor the tour for her next novel.â
âAll these book tours, I feel as if sheâs hardly ever home,â William sighed.
âWell, weâve got to keep her on the tours,â Gordon chuckled, âor that pretty face will go to waste!â
Williamâs jaw tightened as he nodded curtly in agreement, and you felt nervousness turning in your stomach.
âYou should have a drink, soldier,â Gordon offered to lighten the obvious tension, handing William a wide glass of champagne.
He patted your husband a little too roughly on the back as he drank, before dragging you off to talk to some publishers or whateverâ you glanced over to try to see your husband at the bar, hoping to catch him smiling at you, but you only caught his icy stare over the edge of his glass.
~
Enough liquor loosened you both up, and you managed to enjoy the party well into the hours of the nightâ it was almost one in the morning when you got home, yet you had a shocking amount of energy still coursing through you as you started to undress at the vanity. It mustâve been all the people there, and knowing they were all celebrating you; it was electrifying, even as someone who preferred to be cooped up alone with her typewriter.
William leaned against the bedroom doorway as you shed your heels and stockings, then unpinned your hair. When you saw him skulking on the reflection, you smirked to yourself, taking out one of your earrings.
âWhatâs the matter, love?â you asked sweetly, but he said nothing. âLove?â
âI guess Iâm not much of a partier,â he explained flatly.
You smiled a little, taking out your other earring and then reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. You didnât even really notice the silence before it was broken.
âI donât like the way he looks at you,â William said suddenly, and you scoffedâ once you realised what he was talking about.
âHeâs just that way,â you assured, âI donât take it personally.â
âAnd all the talk of your genius, of your prodigious writingâ thatâs not personal?â
You shrugged slightly as you turned slightly and looked at him over your shoulder, smiling but knitting your brows together in confusion. âIsnât that why you married me? I thought you liked the way people fawn over me.â
âBut you know him,â William insisted again. âYou knew him before you even met me, you work with himâ you spend long hours with him, when Iâm goneââ
âDonât be ridiculous,â you laughed, standing up, but he only glared at you. You tilted your head as you approached him. âWilliam, you couldnât really thinkââ
âDonât patronise me,â he sneered, and when you reached out to touch his face, he snatched you by the wrist and yanked you closer.
âWilliam!â you scolded, whimpering as he moved his face close to yours, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily through them. âWilliam, pleaseââ
âLook at me,â he demanded, grabbing your face with his other hand. âLook at your husband, darling.â
You bit your lip to suppress its shaking, meeting his fieryâ yet coldâ stare. âYouâre hurting me,â you whispered, tightening your hand into a weak fist as he held it painfully tight.
âI can see, you know,â he told you sharply and quietly through his teeth. âI can see the way you laugh at his jokes, and let him pull you closer. His hand on your hipââ
âItâs nothing, William,â you breathed, and his hand moved down from your face to your neck, then your chest, where he brushed his fingers over the neckline of your dress.
âWearing the dresses he buys for you,â he noticed with a sneer. âGod, heâs got you looking like his fucking whore.â
He shoved you back and you tripped to land on the bed, hiding your face in fear and shame as he stalked towards you.
âNow you want to play innocent?â William spat as he towered over you. âI told you to fucking look at me!â
âI canât!â you sobbed, fighting when he grabbed your arms and tried to pry them apart, attempting to force you to turn onto your back. âI canât, William, not when youâre like this!â
âYou made me like this!â he accused, eventually getting you to turn over so he could pin down your wrists on either side of your head. âYou made me like this,â he said again, voice lowered from shouting to a soft growl. âYou let him put his filthy fucking hands all over you, didnât you?â
âNo, William,â you denied, crying weakly as you shook your head. âNever. I love youâ I love you more than anything.â
âBut you wonât tell me the truth,â he snarled. âThe truth, darling, not another storyâ not another one of your goddamn stories!â
âHe kissed me!â you admitted suddenly, and before you could explain, William roughly slammed his lips onto yours. You whimpered into it, struggling against his tightening grip, and he pressed you down into the bed with the weight of his body.
âTell me how it happened,â he demanded, lips still brushing against yours as he spoke, eyes still piercing through you.
âI swear, Will, I told him to stop,â you breathed, âI pushed him away. I told him I love you, Williamâ and I do, donât you know how much I do?â
âHe kissed you,â William repeated, rage tinting his voice.
âThatâs all, I swear,â you promised.
âAnd you didnât tell meââ
âI thought youâd get angry,â you defended weakly.
âYou didn't tell your poor, doting husband,â he groaned, âyour heartbroken husbandââ
âIâm so sorry, William,â you whispered.
âWhy didnât you tell me, hm? Because you love him?â
âNo! Fuck, no,â you cried.
âBecause you considered itâ because you thought about letting him make love to you?â
âNo!â you shouted, but he suddenly put a hand over your mouth to muffle it. When you stopped, stilling briefly as he looked down at you, he took his hand away and stroked your cheek with it.
âHe must have forgotten,â William whispered under his breath, petting your face and acting oddly sweet. âHe must have forgotten that you⌠belong to me.â
You blinked quickly, shivering as he pressed a slow, short kiss to your lips.
âThat these lips belong to me,â he continued with a sigh, âthat this neck belongs to meââ
He kissed it, but brushed his teeth teasingly over your pulse.
âThat every single, beautiful, perfect part of you,â he went on, hands running down over your chest and settling on your waist tightly, âbelongs to me.â
He bit down harder on your neck and you whined.
âDid you forget too, darling?â
âWilliam, youâll leave marks,â you whimpered, âyouâll bruise meââ
âGood,â he purred, âthen you canât just take your ring off and act single, can you?â
âI never take off your ring, William,â you swore, ânot even to batheâŚâ
âI still want my marks all over you,â he explained darkly, âI still want you bruised tomorrow. I donât just want them to know youâre married, darlingâ I want them to know how good I fuck you. I want them to know that your husband fucks you.â
Suddenly his hands were at your dress, tearing it to shreds right down the front.
âAnd I want them to know,â he continued with a groan, âhow much you love it.â
He flipped you over roughly, yanking you up by your hair until you were forced to scramble onto your hands and knees. Your head dropped defeatedly when he let go of your hair, and he held your hips tightly with one hand as he opened his trousers with the other.
âW-wait,â you stammered, but he ignored you, reaching up under the tatters of your dress to yank your girdle and panties down. Before you could beg for some mercy again he slammed into you, making you choke out a wavering cry; instantly he was fucking you hard and fast, making you shake all over and try to reach back to grab his hips so he might slow down. âW-Will, love, pleaseââ you whimpered helplessly.
âFuck, if that son of a bitch could see you like this,â William sneered. âIf he could see you nowâ heâd know who you belong to, wouldnât he? If he could see you on your hands and knees, begging for meâŚâ
He fucked you even harderâ his hand reached up to hold onto your shoulder so you wouldnât fall forward from the force of it.
âIf he could see what a dirty little wife you are,â he groaned, digging his fingers into your skinâ more marks, you were sure. âFuck, youâre soaking me already, darling.â
A whimper slipped from your mouth as he leaned down, holding you tightly and speaking right by your ear.
âYou like it, donât you? Playing with me,â he hissed. âYou like driving your poor husband crazy, thinking you might be stepping out on him?â
You shook your head, choking on a moan as he slowed his movements to make sure every thrust reached as deep into you as possible. âN-no, love, noââ
âYou like how I fuck you when Iâm angry, donât you?â he went on anyways, biting the shell of your ear until your channel clenched around him. âIs that what got you so wet, darling?â
Biting your lip to hide your moans, you held tighter onto the sheets beneath you, and one of his hands came down to wrap around yours.
âSo sweet,â he cooed, âsuch a sweet little wife. You look so innocent, darling, they have no idea what a slut you areâ none of them do, but fuck⌠they will.â
He sped up again and you whined loudly; the pain and the pleasure together made your legs shake, hardly able to hold you up on the bed. He snatched one of the nearby pillows and shoved it under your hipsâ it kept them up when he began to fuck you so hard that you fell forward, and the angle hit just right inside you as a desperate scream was muffled by your face falling into the sheets.
"Yes, there she is," he praised, "my whore wifeâ how she loves to be fucked, reminded of her place. This is your place, isn't it? In my bed, sweet cunt taking my cock? Not out with that awful manâ not on those godforsaken book toursâ"
When you tried to reach back to keep him from going too deep again, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them back beside your face as he kept thrusting even faster, making the whole bed bounce and shake.
"You can take it all, darling," he promised with a groan, "you can fit your husband inside, all the wayâ fuck, you're so beautiful like this. You're so perfect, my angelâŚ"
He buried his face in your neck as he thrusted into you, his own moans rivalling yours while he kissed your neck and ear and shoulder. Â
No one could accuse your husband of lacking passion, even if they didnât see him like thisâ which you really hoped they didnât. From the very beginning, heâd pursued you fervently: he read one of your short stories, and wrote rather effusive fan mail to the magazine in which it was published. And then when he came to your publisherâs office hoping to meet you, he took one look at you and became properly obsessed. He insisted you were the love of his life⌠and before youâd even really gotten to know him! You were nearly offended at first; but the longer his seduction went on, the more you couldnât help but fall for him. Strong yet tender, kind yet stern, intelligent yet sensitive⌠and creative, much more than you expected. He had quite an imagination.
Unfortunately, that imagination had a dark side, especially with his tendency to be quite jealous. It had never gone this far before, though.
He pulled out of you, only a moment of relief and disappointment, before turning you onto your back and hovering over you. âLook at me,â he demanded again, though his voice was low and gentle now, âlook up at me, beautiful.â
He tilted your chin up with two fingers, admiring the tears in your eyes with a tender sort of expression.
âOh, my darling,â he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck as he slowly pushed back inside you. Your back arched and he slipped one arm under it to hold you tightly as he set a more careful pace than beforeâ though still not all that slow. "My beautiful girlâ you can't help it, can you? The way men feel about you."
A slightly deeper thrust made you gasp and reach up to hold his shoulders, blinking through the watering in your eyes.
"Of course he kissed you," he breathed, "if you were another man's wife, I'd kiss you too. I'll always have to have you, darling, nothing could stop me."
"I pushed him away, love," you swore again.
"I know, I know," he cooed. "But I still can't stand to think of it⌠of my darling wife being kissed by someone else. He would've only done that if he thought you'd kiss him back, you knowâ he thought you would let him fuck you."
He picked up his pace, staring deep into your eyes and gripping you tightly.
âWhen youâre pregnant, then heâll know,â William announced proudly as he held your hips. âThen everyone who sees you will know: you fucking belong to me.â
Overwhelmed by it, you felt yourself get even hotter and slicker between the legs at the idea of that. He was wrong about you wanting to make him jealous, but neither of you could deny now that you got some gratification out of it.
âSay it,â he ordered.
âI belong to you,â you promised, âIâm yoursâ you know Iâm yours, love, alwaysââ
He hummed in agreement, pumping deeper and faster into you as your head spun. âYouâll be the most beautiful expectant wife there ever was,â he purred, a rough hand tugging your bra out of the way and groping your breasts. âThese nice and fullâ all of you swollen and softââ
âW-William,â you stammered, hardly able to breathe with his weight on you and the way he filled you.
âBig belly,â he cooed, âand my baby insideâ our baby. Fuck, how can I wait to see you like that?â
âF-fuck,â you choked out, âdonât stop, please⌠please, my loveââ
âIâll fill you, darling,â he promised lowly, baring his teeth as you started to fall into itâ your head tilting back into the mattress, pleasure overtaking you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. âIâll give you everything I have, every night, until it takesââ
âPlease,â you begged, holding him tighter and lifting your face up with what little energy you had to bury it in his shoulder. You cried from the intensity of it allâ from everythingâ as shudders wracked your body. He groaned as he felt you pulsing around him, kissing your face and groaning beside your ear.
âWhat a good little wife,â he praised as you came, âwhat a perfect little wifeâ you want it, donât you? To be pregnant, have my child?â
You barely managed to nod, you were so overcome by every sensation running through you. But you did, and he growled proudly.
âYou will, my angel,â he promised, âIâll make sure of it. Just say one more time that you love me, darlingâ that youâll always be mineââ
âI-I love you so much, William,â you swore, muffled in the jacket that you clutched needily. âIâm yoursâ Iâm always yoursâ oh!â
You lost track of your words, but it didnât matter then because you were drowned out by his gasps: heavy, low breaths as he pressed into you one last time and filled you completely.
Instantly, you were flooded with even more emotions: shame, ecstasy, confusion, hurt, love. It was too much to take even if you werenât still slightly tipsy and entirely sleep-deprived, but altogether it just turned you into a mess.
After coming down from his highâ though he was still catching his breathâ William seemed to sober up in a second as you cried harder. Cooing gently at you, he wrapped his arms tighter around you and hugged you close.
âIâm sorry, darling,â he breathed as he held you tightly, âIâm so sorry. You know itâs just my love that makes me this wayâ I just canât stand to see another man lay his hand on you⌠I just canât imagine you with anyone else, it breaks my heart, darling.â
âYou break my heart, William,â you whispered back, still hiding in his shoulder, âwhen you think I could ever hurt you like that. When you accuse me of something like thatââ
âI just get scared, darling,â he sighed, petting your back slowly as he rocked you in his arms. âI just get scared that youâre too good to be true. That this beautiful creature canât be all mine.â
You smiled against his skin, holding onto him tighter. âI love you so much, William⌠Iâd neverâ you have to believe me, Iâd neverââ
âShh,â he soothed softly, as he held your head and kissed the top of it. âI know, darling, I know. Because you belong to me.â
#william killick x reader#william killick smut#william killick dark fic#dark!william killick smut#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy dark fic
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Was talking with @seiya234 about Sam Vimes and the idea that seems to come up in some fan circles with some regularity that after his death, Vimes will become the 'God of Coppering' or in some other way some part of him will continue to protect the city/the Watch after his death. She mentioned that she thought the idea was kind of king-ish - the whole idea "that someone will keep swooping in and saving the day" - and that Vimes would haaaaaate that, and I agree.
However. It's true. Part of Sam Vimes will keep protecting Ankh-Morpork long after he dies.
It's the part of him he gave to Carrot, the part that Carrot uses to check himself every time he starts to get frustrated with the limitations of what he can do as a Watchman and wishes he could just - make people be better.
It's the part of him he gave to Angua, the quiet faith that of course the beast within can be brought to heel, of course it's never easy but it's always worth it.
It's the part of him he gave to A. E. Pessimal, a small dull man living a small dull life whose eyes were opened wide one terrifying night to how much of a difference one small dull man's small dull life can make to the great churning wheels of the world.
It's the part of him he gave to the grags and to Mr. Shine, the proof that the truth is worth digging for and worth hauling up into the light, that it's possible to look beyond hatred and mistrust.
It's the part of him he gave to William de Worde, the knowledge that nothing is really worth doing unless someone, somewhere, would really much rather you weren't doing it.
It's the part of him he gave to Reg Shoe, that keeps Reg believing in the necessity of fighting for a better world even when it seems absurd and impossible and foolish to try.
It's the part of him he gave to Sham Harga, who knows every now and then, a man just needs some burnt crispy bits.
It's the part of him he gave to any number of strangers in the street, a sense of what fairness and justice can look like, even in something as small as a night patrol.
It's the part of him he gave to Sybil, the very best part of himself.
And it's everything of himself that he gave to Young Sam, who has a chance now to make his own impressions on a thousand thousand lives.
It's not just A part of Sam Vimes that will linger after his death, protecting the city he loved and hated in equal parts, the city that was his. It's a thousand thousand parts, that he left behind sometimes aware, sometimes intentionally, sometimes without even realising. And it's not something inherent within Sam Vimes and Sam Vimes alone, not something special about him or that only he could do. It's what everyone does, leaves parts and pieces of themselves behind. A thousand thousand parts of Sam Vimes are still out there, still saving the city, little by little, in quiet unglamourous ways, day after day after day.
If anything can be saved by a part of someone who's gone, it's like this.
And I think Sam Vimes would be proud of that.
(And also swear about it quite a lot when he realises this also implies that technically he's a factor in the lives of crime that some of the many, many people he's arrested over his long career have gone on to lead, but alas. We don't get to choose ALL the ripples we make in the world.)
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kink-o-ween - day fifteen
logan sargeant - praise kink
cw: smut/pwp, praise kink, cowgirl position, dom/sub dynamics, sub!logan, dom!reader, cuddling
kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition
logan was your good boy. he had always been. the boy from florida loved his praise. he bloomed under it like flowers in the summer. sprouted to be closer to your words. you loved showering him in the praise he deserved, in the love he deserved.
you were lounging against the arm of the couch in your apartment in florida. you two lived here now that logan was driving indy. it was easier, closer to family. your book was open up on the arm of the couch as you got comfortable.
but your space was soon invaded by logan. he looked down at you from the couch and you smiled at him, "you know this book is painfully inaccourate about a formula one romance."
logan made a face and picked the book up out of your hands, "i bet you could write something better." there was still a bit of bad blood between him and formula one. he grabbed your bookmark from your lap and put it in the book, "maybe try your hand and indy racing." he winked.
he placed the book down and got onto the couch. he laid out behind you and got your arms wrapped around him. he had been in a video meeting all morning and now yearned for the sweet embrace of his girlfriend.
"kisses?" he asked, you could tell he was smiling.
"needy, needy boy. how did you survive when you were globe-trotting with williams?" you held onto him tightly. he was your logie-bear for a reason. cuddling him was like cuddling a giant stuffed bear.
"you want the truth?"
you lightly chuckled as you kissed the side of his face, "am i not going to like it?"
he mulled over it for a moment, "i mean... i would personally take it as a compliment."
you squeezed him a little, "hit me with it, honey."
"i would have one of your sweatshirts. i think you know the one. the one with the holes in them that you patched up but eventually you just threw it out." he recalled as he held your arms, "i'd throw it over a spare pillow in the hotel room. and then i'd snuggle with it."
"oh i thought you were going to say that you humped it." you laughed a little and then ran your fingers through his short hair.
logan laughed, "i thought about it. but, i have quite the collection of photos of you. so, that solved that problem... wasn't as good as the real thing."
you giggled, "oh yeah?" you kissed his face once more, "i guess that's what they're there for. i bet you thought about me day and night. i bet it drove you crazy."
logan shifted a little, "of course." he could feel the heat in his cheeks at the memories of you he had. what kept him company while on the road.
"because you're my good boy, right?" you said softly, "maybe i should write an indy racing novel about the best boy ever." you held onto his hair for a moment, even giving it a small yank, "the future number one."
he swallowed, "please, sweetheart." he chuckled, "don't tease me." too many nights alone, even now in indy. he yearned for you, he yearned for your praise.
you giggled, "i was about to get to the smutty part of my book. but, maybe you and i can fill those gaps." you were asking him to have sex with you. to feel up your lover.
he looked over his shoulder at you and chuckled, "honey, like i'm going to say no to having sex with you."
"then be a good boy and let's go to the bedroom." you knew that logan was fast, even on his two legs. but the way the driver moved to get to the bedroom made you laugh a little. you soon joined him in the bedroom, a few steps behind him.
when you got through the door he grabbed you and picked you up. he got you onto the bed before his lips were on yours and his hands at the bottom of your t-shirt. you moaned into the kiss and held onto his head.
"my good boy. you are so good for me." you cupped his face, "my big strong, handsome boyfriend" you rubbed his face and he leaned into your hand like a happy puppy. it was painfully cute and you rewarded his good behaviour for kisses along his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
you got his t-shirt off of him and he did the same to you. he palmed your breasts lovingly as he kissed you once more. while he loved your praise, he loved the feeling of his lips against yours even more. you held onto his shoulders while you pushed him down onto the bed.
he laid out for you, he looked like an angel.
you ran your hands down his chest and smiled at him, "such a good boy for me. you know what, right? you're so good. so loving and caring. you always get back up when you're knocked down. nothing can stop my logie-bear." you giggled before you leaned over to kiss him on the lips.
he blushed a little bit as he shifted on the bed a little bit, "c'mon, honey. no need to lay it on so thick." but he was met with kisses all over his face with hands at his sweatpants.
"no, no. i'll lay it on as thick as i want." then kissed the corner of his mouth before you pulled away as he helped you get his bottoms off. soon even the socks were off and you were both naked in bed together.
"trying to use all the lines for your book? see if they work." logan laughed as you ran your hands down his chest before you took him by the face and kissed him deeply.
"oh, of course. my indy racing novel with the stunning male lead who is such a good boy." you purred as you straddled his waist and beamed down at him.
logan melted a little, "sounds like a best-seller. i'd buy a copy. maybe i'll be lucky and get the lovely author to sign it for me."
you held onto his shoulders while you sank on his cock with a little help from him. you looked down at him and smiled, "maybe, if you're good."
logan shuddered from the praise as you fully seated yourself onto him. when you were finally on his cock, he held onto your hips. not to control the pace, but to just feel closer to you. to feel your warmth and love as you rode him.
"mmm, my handsome boy. my handsome logan." you moaned as you really started to pick up pace with your movements. you watched his facial expressions, he looked beautiful. you knew that you'd be in love with him for a lifetime.
"please, babe. ah! honey." he groaned as he held onto you tighter. the praise made his head cloudy with a sexual need as the bed creaked under the both of you. he loved you, so much.
you smiled and continued to move against him. you knew it was a lot for him, the praise swirled in his head like a whirlpool as you rode him. the thrust of your hips against him.
your beloved driver, you precious lover who made your heart swell with love. you could write a million novels about him! you moaned a little bit and felt the flood of pleasure down to your feet.
the heat ran course through your body and you continued to move. logan loved it too, given that when he felt really good his eyes closed and his expression looked more blissed out. you once joked he looked like the pretty boys in mcu movies, but to see him so relaxed and overtaken by pleasure because of. well, that was a sight worth a thousand words.
"my handsome man." you said softly as you continued to ride him, "you are the perfect boyfriend and an amazing driver. you're going to lay waste to the track." you giggled before you kissed him some more.
he loved the praise and he loved you.
your movements continued as did the praise. you moaned then said, "fuck, logan. i love you so much. i hope you know that you're a good boyfriend. i knew from the moment i met you that i'd love you forever." you held onto him a little tighter.
logan held onto you while you rode him. he kept you steady while you rutted against him. he eyed you from your sweet expressions to the giggle of your breasts.
"oh, fuck, logan." you moaned.
your pace continued, it only continued. you whimpered a little bit and felt the pleasure circulate through your body. the movements were quick and hot. the thump of your chest was loud as your toes curled a little from the sensation.
"you complete me."
"good." he exhaled shakily, the pleasure clouded his head. everything felt a little fuzzy in a good way. he could feel his heartbeat in his ears as you worked his cock.
this was better than any old hoodie or any album of photos. he could have a photo of you in every angle and it wouldn't satisfy him the way having you in person was. the kisses continued and logan was in heaven. he rubbed your hips while you continued to thrust against him, you were practically bouncing on his cock.
soon the need to orgasm became at the forefront of your mind. you gripped onto him tightly for support as you worked him up and down. your soaked cunt becoming familiar with his cunt. you panted heavily and tensed up as you felt close to climax.
"please. logan." you panted as you felt excitement run through you. you arched your back as you climaxed around his cock. you moaned a little bit and rode out your orgasm.
the throb in your skull from the intense emotion made you shudder and your nipples grew hard. logan licked his lips and breathed heavily as you continued to ride him even after you climaxed.
he held onto you, his said how much he loved you. how much you meant to him. that you were his girlfriend! you were his love! then tensed his grip on you as he felt close to climax. you knew he was and it made you lean in close to his ear.
"good boy." you said with love tinged in your voice.
and that sent him over the edge. he finished inside of you and he groaned through grit teeth. when he finally relaxed his grip on you. you planted both hands on the center of his strong chest before you went in to kiss him deeply on the mouth.
he melted a little before you pulled away and he got you down on the bed beside him. he wrapped his strong arms around you and you smiled at him. he asked, "was that better than your book?"
you tapped your chin playfully as you replied, "i guess so. but i might need some more research for my book."
he smiled at you, "well, yeah. of course."
-
you watched logan thumb through the pages of the book slowly. you shifted from one foot to another. you went through two editors and the publishing house to get this published. but yet you felt nervous when your driver boyfriend reading your book.
what started off as a joke turned into a pet project for almost six months. while the book was a little cheesy, you were more nervous about getting all the details of racing right.
logan looked up at you from the top of the book and smiled behind the pages, "i see someone's done their research."
"well, i had the best teacher to answer all my dumb questions." you beamed.
he put the book down and pulled you into his lap. he wrapped his strong arms around you and held you tightly. he kissed your neck and said, "you did amazing, sweetheart!"
he craved your praise. but he was more than happy to give you some of your own. <3
#bunny writes#kink-o-ween#logan sargeant smut#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant#ls2 smut#ls2 fic#ls2 imagine#ls2 x reader#ls2#reader insert#formula one imagine#formula one smut#formula 1#formula one fanfiction#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 rpf#formula 1 fanfic#formula racing#f1 rpf#f1
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kompenscovery was such a blessed secret entrance to a Whole Deal (winnie n tay. & i guess billions) when like. having the most specific, correct opinions, and being me, = the ideal is [nobody else try to talk to me about winston billions] and thatâs just where weâre at. this is an exclusive experience
#talking to myself / making the wisdom Available by nailing my text posts (and drawings) to the church doors but then i walk away#meanwhile also of course the hero who permits [my monologuing abt winston all the more behind the scenes] w/o being sick of it after 9000hrs#i think probably other people talk abt winston but not in ways i'm interested in. Except absolute rando twitter billions viewers#this like 60 or 70 yr old lady from twitter who Loves winston. and presumably through the will roland angle lol she went to bway bmc....#just other one off tweets abt ppl like yeah he's one of my / the fave. um hell yes my scholar#or no wait lmfao like again i'd talk about this w/beth roland in theory lmfao. maybe even also hero & scholar & relevant party william#the niche on niche on niche like. looking into deh As Jared Kleinman Lore. liking an actor's je ne sais quoi & scrambling when finding out#that his upcoming bway role is Thee Lead thank you very much....the dramatic fateful saga that was [ending up watching the then available#clips from billions which was up to kompenso]....finding the peak specific peak titrated peak Exact Enrichment gift lol#beyond that i don't see [media enjoyment / takes] as much of like a springboard for Broader Socializing or anything. it Can be ig but.#that's not the goal & not the expectation. at this point reflecting on Myself & My Experiences & My Heart's Truth lmfao i'm like#beyond [i don't think i'd enjoy A Friend Group in actuality] to [i don't think i'm that interested in Friends] series or concept lol#open to whatever & flexible or whatever but eh. already i like Impersonal & Parallel activity & doing my own thing perhaps amongst others#i like impersonal but amicable spontaneous; fleeting exchanges. doing xyz ''alone'' amongst other people.#i like Not having to people please & i'm autistic so i'm generally gonna be considered [unlikable / impersonable / too much / etc] adhd too#although it's not that specific like it goes for Anything. i don't want ppl to talk to me abt [xyz] lol#request a mini monologue / short essay sure but other than that#this isn't a forum....here's the posts left on the door. one can try the anchorite window or sending a letter. doing my own thing yknow#the secret here is ''i mean i like to talk to people but; i actually in practice tend to not like to talk to people'' lmfao#one can check back when many things are more on my own terms / suited to me but. buffering wheel / flipping hourglass mode
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Sum of All 1
Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: mob!Steve Rogers
Part of the mob drabbles au
Summary:Â you are given an unexpected assignment.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Iâm happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging â¤ď¸
You sigh and back up through the file explorer. Come on. Your frustration bubbles up until you feel sweat on your scalp. You squint at the screen, searching for what you need. You blow out through your lips and reach for your mug. The white one with the small agencyâs logo on it.Â
âMr. Brenner,â you pivot your chair as you put your cup down, âI canât find the Dubeau files. I was almost finished--âÂ
âDubeau? Never heard of âem,â he doesnât look away from his screen. You tense and nod.Â
âOf course, sir, I must be misremembering.âÂ
You donât argue. Not out loud. Just like always, you roll over and take it all. You hold it all in. When you lost something, you resign yourself to it. When you miss the train, you sit down and wait for the next, and when youâre told something is a certain way, it must be. And if not, youâ rather wait for the truth to leak through then speak up and make yourself the fool.Â
You click around the files. That means you can move on. Thereâs a backlog of accounts to get through as it is. Ever since Wallace quit, youâve been doing his work too. It was so unexpected. Strange how abrupt that was. He left his jacket behind but he still hasnât come to get it. Well, once you find a better firm, youâre out the door just as fast.Â
âCarson. It needs to be done,â Brenner says as he clicks his mouse lazily.Â
You glance over. You can see the reflection of his screen in the glass of his framed accountant certification on the wall. It doesnât look like a spread sheet. The colours move and you try not to think about what they resemble.Â
âGot it, sir.âÂ
âWhat about Williams?â Geraldine suggests.Â
Brenner clucks, âdelete that. Thought I already did.âÂ
The tapping of keys continues. Geraldine is old and slow. Her work is reliable but not timely, and Brenner, the senior accountant, tends to do better at sweet talking clients than the paperwork.Â
You focus on the Carson file. Like many of the clients, itâs a mess. Assets all over. Photos of wrinkled documents and few of loose cash on indeterminate surfaces. You donât ask questions. You just figure it out. The place isnât your first choice but with zero experience, itâs the only way youâll have any. Itâs a pathway to a better destination.Â
The office is stagnant but for the clacking of keyboards and clicking of mice. Only Brennerâs heavy huffs and Geraldineâs incessant sniffling interrupt. You lean on your elbow as you compare your two monitors and input values.Â
The front door opens and Geraldine stands. She deals with the walk-ins. She enjoys chatting with them. Sometimes too much. You suspect she doesnât get much conversation with her two cats.Â
âOh, hello, arenât you a strapping young man. My, oh, I know you,â she chimes, âMr. Rogers. Yes, I recall.âÂ
The man sighs in response. You glance over as Mr. Brenner stands so quickly that his chair rolls back into the wall. He clears his throat and hurries around his desk. You havenât seen him react like that for anyone.Â
You stare at the man across from Geraldine. Heâs tall and well-dressed. He wears a pinstripe suit with a pressed white collared-shirt, a sleek grey tie down his chest. Despite his tailored attire, his hair is overgrown, his beard too. Thereâs a permanent stitch in his forehead.Â
Rogers... it sounds familiar.Â
âSir,â Brenner extends his hand as he approaches the other man, âhow are ya? What can I do for ya today?âÂ
The other man looks at him dully and ignores his handshake. He sniffs and peers around at the beige walls. The place is enough to drive anyone mad.Â
âI need an accountant.âÂ
âI didnât know you were looking? Brian--âÂ
âShut up about Brian,â the man snarls. âIâm not hear to chat.âÂ
âWell, I can take care of it--âÂ
âYou wonât,â Rogers insists. âThe things you click on, I donât need that risk. Itâs off the books. No digital trail.âÂ
âRight,â Brenner agrees, âWallace is... gone--âÂ
âDidnât ask,â Rogers turns away from him and looks past the empty desk to you, âher. Come on.âÂ
He snaps then curls his fingers. Brenner bounces on his heels anxiously, âum, right, but Geraldine is more experienced--âÂ
âSheâs wearing orthotics. I need someone who can run around,â the man snaps. Â
âYes, sir, of course, sir. I donât mean to overstep,â Pete shows his palms. âGet your bag, sweetie. Youâre gonna help Mr. Rogers for the day.âÂ
âMore than a day,â he says as he checks his watch.Â
âAs long as you need,â Brenner agrees.Â
You save the spreadsheet and slowly close down the Excel sheet. You wheel back in your chair, unsure, and reach beneath for the leather briefcase you splurged on when you got the job. When you still thought it was a professional office.Â
âI heard about the engagement,â Brenner lowers his voice but the place is too small not to hear, âSorry, buddy, thatâs tough--âÂ
âI didnât ask what you think,â Rogers bristles.Â
You peer over again and find him staring. Impatiently.Â
âRight, right, was just saying--âÂ
âAnd Iâm not your buddy,â he growls.Â
âOf course, sir,â Brenner preens. âIâm digging the new look. Growing out the hair. Very in vogue--âÂ
âEnough,â he waves past Brenner to you. âLetâs go. Boss is waiting.âÂ
You get up and snap the clasp on the plum briefcase as you shuffle in your kitten heels. You approach the man as you grip the handle and offer your other hand formally. âHi, sir,â you introduce yourself. âWhat can I help with?âÂ
âWeâll get to it. For now, stay close,â he looks at his watch again.Â
âGlad to be of service, sir,â Pete says. âIâll waive the invoice--âÂ
Heâs once more ignored as Rogers spins and marches for the door. Tension curdles in his wake and you look around. Brenner gives you a toothy cringe and shoos you, âdonât keep him waiting and for god sakes, smile.âÂ
You raise your brows as Geraldine returns to her desk. She sits stiffly as she rubs her hip and offers a sheepish look, âgood luck, dearie.âÂ
Their nervous demeanour fills you with dread. Who exactly is this Mr. Rogers and why are they all so afraid of him? You can only be sure that you should be too.Â
#steve rogers#dark steve rogers#dark!steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#series#drabble#sum of all#mob au#au#mcu#marvel#captain america#avengers
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So, Apollo and jewellery!!
I want to start off by saying that Apollo (or any male god, really) wearing jewellery is not a common occurrence in the ancient greco-roman art forms. So there's not a lot you can get, but I've put together whatever I've found so far.
On the vase paintings, you'll find body chains across his chest and there's bracelets too:
^ He also has a leg bracelet in this one
In this painting, along with a body chain and a bracelet, there's a thigh band and a finger ring as well.
Then we have waist belts. I did entertain the possibility of this being an embroidered belt. However in the first image, the belt is gilded with gold, so imo it's meant to be a belt with gilded gold, if not made entirely of gold.
In this Etruscan painting representing Apollo going to/coming back from Hyperborea on a swan, he's wearing necklaces.
Apollo wearing a necklace and an arm band seems to be a fairly common sight in the Etruscan art (so Aplu, technically ig), as seen in these two statuettes:
and some Etruscan mirror arts:
Now moving onto the diadems! A diadem referred to something you could tie your hair with - it could be a ribbon, a wreath of fresh leaves, or a jewelled wreath/head piece - it's the last one that I'm counting as jewellery. Diadems like the one Apollo is wearing below were usually worn by noblewomen.
You can also find depictions of Apollo with a jewelled wreath on his head. They resemble a laurel wreath, but they're made of gold, and have gems embedded. Here's a statue for example:
There are also Roman frescos and mosaics that show you what it actually looks like in color.
And here, you can see not just a gold diadem, but also bracelets on both his hands as well as anklets on his legs:
And there's what seems to be earrings as well? But honestly I'm not that sure, it could just be a damage on the fresco (even if that's the case, we can still appreciate the winged eyeliner amirite)
There's also this fresco of Apollo judging a beauty contest between Venus and Hesperus. Here he is not wearing a gold wreath, but there is a gold band upon his head:
And unlike other pieces of jewellery, you'll find literary references as well for Apollo's diadem:
"When Apollo was born, Zeus equipped him with golden headband and lyre and gave him also a chariot of swans to drive" â Alcaeus, Hymn to Apollo (trans. David A. Campbell)
"Apollo puts his hair in order by shaping his flowing locks with soft foliage and braiding it with a golden diadem." â Virgil, Aeneid 4 (trans. Ingo Gildenhard)
"...he fastens bay about his lyre and the woven brilliance of his coronet, and ungirds his breast of the pictured girdle..." â Statius, Thebaid 6 (trans. J. H. Mozley)
"But you will say, Phoibos has a goldgleaming diadem." â Nonnus, Dionysiaca 4 (trans. William Henry Denham Rouse)
[Inscription]: "Apollo the mighty, Lord incomparable of the Diadem, who hath set up statues of the Gods in this kingdom" â Ammianus Marcellinus, History 17 (trans. John Carew Rolfe)
[Inscription]: "Mighty Apollo, seated upon truth, Lord of the Diadem, who hath gloriously honoured Egypt as his peculiar possession" â Ammianus Marcellinus, History 17 (trans. John Carew Rolfe)
And that's pretty much everything I've come across so far. I was a bit surprised at the lack of literary references for the effeminate gods. Not just Apollo, even Dionysus' effeminacy is described by his fair face and long hair and perfumed garments, and there are no mentions of jewellery afaik. But of course, just like with Apollo, you can find jewellery on Dionysus in the visual arts.
#Apollo#âis that an earring or just a very strangely drawn earlobe?â <- me looking at some of the vase paintings#and it was indeed a weirdly drawn earlobe everytime#lol#also I was internally giggling when I was zooming in on Apollo's finger ring in that one painting#i know rings as symbols of betrothal wasn't a concept in that time period but-!!#i couldn't help but think âooooh who gave him the ring? đâ#also anyone who knows more about ancient greek jewellery please tell me if men wore body chains at all??#because I couldn't find anything to support that historically#but in the paintings several male figures wear it so it couldn't be coming out of nowhere right??#mine#apollo info#jewellery
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Dwarf tradition, in The Truth. Long quote but there is so much to unpack here.
"A dwarf needs gold to get married." "What⌠like a dowry? But I thought dwarfs didn't differentiate between--" "No, no, the two dwarfs getting married each buy the other dwarf off their parents." "Buy?" said William. "How can you buy people?" "See? Cultural misunderstanding once again, lad. It costs a lot of money to raise a young dwarf to marriageable age. Food, clothes, chain mail⌠it all adds up over the years. It needs repaying. After all, the other dwarf is getting a valuable commodity. And it has to be paid for in gold. That's traditional. Or gems. They're fine, too. You must've heard our saying 'worth his weight in gold'? Of course, if a dwarf's been working for his parents, that gets taken into account on the other side of the ledger. Why, a dwarf who's left off marrying till late in life is probably owed quite a tidy sum in wagesâYou're still looking at me in that funny wayâŚ" "It's just that we don't do it like thatâŚ" mumbled William. Goodmountain gave him a sharp look. "Don't you, now?" he said. "Really? What do you use instead, then?" "Er⌠gratitude, I suppose," said William. He wanted this conversation to stop, right now. It was heading out over thin ice. "And how's that calculated?" "Well⌠it isn't, as suchâŚ" "Doesn't that cause problems?" "Sometimes." "Ah. Well, we know about gratitude, too. But our way means the couple start their new lives in a state of⌠g'daraka⌠er, free, unencumbered, new dwarfs. Then their parents might well give them a huge wedding present, much bigger than the dowry. But it is between dwarf and dwarf, out of love and respect, not between debtor and creditor⌠though I have to say these human words are not really the best was of describing it. It works for us. It has worked for a thousand years." "I suppose to a human it sounds a bit⌠chilly," said William. Goodmountain gave him another studied look. "You mean by comparison to the warm and wonderful ways humans conduct their affairs?" he said. "You don't have to answer that one. Anyway, me and Boddony want to open up a mine together, and we're expensive dwarfs. We know how to work lead, so we thought a year or two of this would see us right." "You're getting married?" "We want to," said Goodmountain. "Oh⌠well, congratulations," said William. He knew enough not to comment on the fact that both dwarfs looked like small barbarian warriors with long beards. All traditional dwarfs looked like that.* *Most dwarfs were still referred to as "he" as well, even when they were getting married. It was generally assumed that somewhere under all that chain mail one of them was female and that both of them knew which one this was. But the whole subject of sex was one that traditionally minded dwarfs did not discuss, perhaps out of modesty, possibly because it didn't interest them very much, and certainly because they took the view that what two dwarfs decided to do together was entirely their own business. â Terry Pratchett, The Truth
I super love the footnote, of course, but unexpectedly now I kind of want this version of a dowry to be a thing. I mean, the dowries of the bad old days where the man basically bought the woman from her parents, that's not okay. But this.
I'm a parent, and in no way do I feel like my kid owes me for their upbringing, education, or even (I'm anticipating) a few years of post-college living at home. Not at all. I can't imagine not taking care of them or attaching any strings to that care.
But that's not what this is. Really, ideally, it's a way for parents and children to give each other the gift of the child's independence, their autonomy, their adulthood. To officially and tangibly say that their relationship from this point on is no longer parent/child, but something more on an equal level.
For that matter, I imagine the child is free not to have a relationship with their parents any more at all, if they want. No obligation, no guilt. If parents want to be in their kids' lives when they're adults, they'll need to make sure their kids actually like them as people.
Well. I know that our world of humans doesn't work like this. Even if we put a monetary value on what we owed our parents and paid it, we'd still feel obligated to them, at least a little. Even if our kids paid us back, we'd still feel like we had the right to control them, at least a little.
But man. That g'daraka thing sounds wonderful.
#terry pratchett#gnu terry pratchett#discworld#discworld quotes#william de worde#gunilla goodmountain#the truth#and also spoiler but after this it hits so hard in the book when william tries to buy himself from his father
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