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julietsf1 · 8 days ago

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A Technical Mistake - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: peaceful paddock mornings of stocking caps and shirts are flipped upside down when Franco Colapinto, a charming stranger she assumes is part of the AV crew, comes into her store and gives her weekend an unexpected turn. (7k words)

content: big misunderstanding; cute Franco; reader is a normal working girl

AN: I am such a sucker for stories with a little cinderella vibe! I was thinking of buying the blue Williams jacket on track in Brazil but it was so spenny! send me ur sugar daddies pls!

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The paddock was eerily quiet, an almost sacred calm before the storm of engines roaring, fans screaming, and journalists scrambling for the latest drama. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rubber—a smell I’d grown oddly fond of over the years.

This was my favorite time of the weekend. Before the rush, before the chaos of customers demanding sizes and colors we didn’t have, I could take a moment to breathe, to organize the merchandise store in peace.

“Me bajé del avión, voy corriendo para verte…” I sang softly, shimmying a little as I balanced a stack of Williams caps. The sound of Duki was the perfect soundtrack to my morning. The melody took over, and before I knew it, I was halfway moonwalking back to the Ferrari section, twirling a hanger between my fingers like I was starring in some kind of musical.

The song’s beat was about to drop when a voice cut through my impromptu performance.

“¿Y siempre bailás así mientras laburás, o es solo un show privado?” (Do you always dance like this while working, or is it just a private show?)

I froze mid-step, almost dropping the caps in my hands. Whipping around, my heart racing, I found myself face-to-face with a guy leaning against the doorframe. He had this ridiculous grin plastered across his face, his green eyes sparkling with amusement.

“¡Ah!” I yelped, clutching my chest. “Perdón, I didn’t—uh… ¿qué?” (Sorry, I didn’t—uh… what?)

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Te pregunté si siempre bailás así mientras laburás.” (I asked if you always dance like that while working.)

Heat crept up my neck, and I scrambled to pull myself together. “Oh, uh… sí. Quiero decir, no. Bueno, depende…” (Yes. I mean, no. Well, it depends…)

His grin widened. “No pensé que alguien en el paddock también escuchara a Duki. ¿Sabías que el último álbum es una obra maestra? La forma en que mezcla el trap con el reguetón es una locura—” (! I didn’t think anyone in the paddock listened to Duki too. Did you know his latest album is a masterpiece? The way he mixes trap with reggaeton is insane—)

“Eh, pará,” (Wait, hold up,), I interrupted, holding up a hand, feeling my brain short-circuit as I tried to keep up with his rapid Spanish. “Hablo un poco español… pero no muy bien.” (I speak a little spanish… but not very well.)

That gave him half a second of pause before he broke into laughter. “¿No muy bien? Pero me contestaste perfecto.” (Not very well? But you answered me perfectly.) His tone was teasing, but there was no malice—just genuine warmth. “Igual, perdón. A veces hablo mucho. Es que me emocioné.” (Sorry. Sometimes I talk too much. I just got excited.)

I blinked, thrown off by his sudden shift to sincerity. “No, no, está bien. Me gusta Duki también.” (No, no, it’s okay. I like Duki too.)

“¡Ah, viste!” (Ah, see!), he said, throwing his hands up in delight. “¿Cuál es tu canción favorita? Mirá, ‘Goteo’ siempre me pone de buen humor, pero ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ es un clásico. Y si me decís que ‘Chico Estrella’ no te gusta, no sé si podemos ser amigos.” (What’s your favorite song? Look, ‘Goteo’ always puts me in a good mood, but ‘She Don’t Give a Fo’ is a classic. And if you tell me you don’t like ‘Chico Estrella,’ I don’t know if we can be friends.)

I stared at him, trying to decipher his rapid enthusiasm. I caught about half of what he said, but his energy was infectious. “Uh… ‘Chico Estrella’ es muy buena,” (‘Chico Estrella’ is very good,), I ventured cautiously, hoping I wasn’t completely misinterpreting him.

His hand went to his chest like I’d just said something profound. “Sabía que eras de las mías. Esto es destino.” (I knew you were one of mine. This is destiny.)

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “¿Siempre hablás tanto con gente que no conocés?” (Do you always talk this much to people you don’t know?)

“Solo con la gente que escucha buena música,” (Only with people who listen to good music,), he replied smoothly, then added with a wink, “Soy Franco, por cierto. Mucho gusto.” (I’m Franco, by the way. Nice to meet you.)

“Oh, eh… Y/N,” I said, shaking his outstretched hand briefly. “Mucho gusto.” (Nice to meet you.)

“Y/N,” he repeated, like he was savoring the sound of it. “Bueno, ¿qué estás haciendo? ¿Preparando todo para el gran finde?” (So, what are you doing? Getting everything ready for the big weekend?)

“Sí.” I nodded, switching back to English because I knew I was about to run out of Spanish confidence. “I’m setting up the store. It’s… not super exciting.”

“¡Claro que sí!” (Of course it is!) he replied, not missing a beat. “Look at this—hats, shirts, models of cars. Very exciting.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Right. And what about you?”

“I’m here for the soundcheck,” he replied with a grin.

“Soundcheck?” I frowned. “Oh, like for the AV stuff?”

“Exactly.” His lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. “The audio visual stuff. Very technical, very important. You know how it is.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “So why are you hanging out here instead of being ‘very technical’?”

“Because,” he said, his grin widening, “I heard someone singing Duki and thought, wow.”

“Oh my God.” I groaned, turning back to my work. “I wasn’t singing.”

“You were definitely singing.”

“And I wasn’t dancing,” I added quickly.

“Sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “That little move you did with your feet? Totally not dancing.”

“Okay, fine!” I laughed, throwing my hands up. “I was dancing. But you’re not supposed to be here yet, so technically, you shouldn’t have seen it.”

“Technically, I shouldn’t be here at all,” he said with a shrug, “but aren’t you glad I am?”

“No, actually,” I deadpanned, though my grin gave me away.

Franco laughed, glancing at the pile of caps balanced precariously on the counter. “You’re doing heavy lifting, huh? Don’t knock over anything else.”

“That was an accident!” I protested. “The shelves are wobbly.”

“Right. The shelves are wobbly,” he nodded sagely. “Not because you panicked when someone caught you salsa dancing.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Oh my God, just go do your soundcheck!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. But seriously, next time I’m back, I expect a full choreography.”

Peeking through my fingers, I saw him give me a playful wave before stepping out. For a moment, I just stood there, trying—and failing—to fight the smile creeping onto my face.

…

The paddock was already alive with early risers: engineers carrying coffee cups larger than their heads, journalists muttering into their phones, and the occasional VIP wandering too close to restricted areas before being politely redirected. I tightened my jacket against the crisp morning air, balancing a tray of new Williams caps as I unlocked the shop.

Friday had been a whirlwind of chaos—overwhelming, exhausting, but honestly kind of fun. The memory of my unexpected visitor lingered, his laughter and that unmistakable grin replaying in my mind. Franco. I didn’t know why he stuck out so much.

I hummed as I worked, letting my playlist fill the silence of the shop. I was halfway through adjusting a tower of Ferrari shirts when his voice rang out again.

“Bizarrap now? Y/N where have you been all this time”

I jumped, narrowly avoiding knocking over the display. “Oh my God, you really need to stop sneaking up on me!”

Franco leaned casually against the doorframe, thermos in hand, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not my fault you’re always in the middle of a dance routine when I show up.”

“Maybe if you showed up at a normal time, I wouldn’t be,” I shot back, though I couldn’t hide my grin.

“Nah, that’d be boring,” he said with a shrug, stepping inside like he belonged there. “And anyway, I was just passing by. Thought I’d check if my favorite shop manager was still here.”

“You mean the shop manager,” I corrected, setting the shirts down. “Unless you’re making house calls for all the merch shops on track now.”

Franco chuckled, unscrewing the lid of his thermos. “Only the best ones.”

My eyes flicked to the thermos, curiosity piqued. “Is that… for maté?”

“Yeah!” His face lit up like I’d just asked if he wanted to talk about his favorite thing in the world. “Do you know it?”

“I’ve heard of it,” I admitted. “Isn’t it like… tea?”

“Like tea?” He clutched his chest in mock offense. “You’re killing me. It’s more than tea. It’s life itself. It’s tradition. It’s community. It’s—”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed, holding up my hands. “So it is better than tea, I assume?”

Franco grinned, pulling out the gourd and bombilla. “I’m about to change your life. Want to try?”

“Sure,” I said, hesitating only briefly before taking the gourd he offered. I sipped cautiously, my expression shifting from surprise to delight. “Oh! This is actually really good.”

“See!” Franco said, looking far too pleased with himself. “I knew I liked you.”

“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Glad to have passed the test.”

“So, how was yesterday? Did the paddock treat you well?”

I groaned, leaning against the counter. “If you consider someone asking if I had Ferrari shirts in passionfruit purple treating me well, then sure.”

Franco choked on his sip, coughing through his laughter. “Passionfruit purple? What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “I tried to tell him we only have red, black, and white, and he told me that wasn’t his problem and I should go find some elsewhere.”

“Classic paddock VIP,” Franco said, shaking his head. “What else?”

“Oh, then there was this woman who wanted me to bedazzle her Red Bull polo. While she waited.”

“She expected you to add rhinestones? To a team shirt?” Franco asked, looking genuinely dumbfounded.

“That’s exactly what she thought,” I said, laughed. “When I said we can’t do that, she asked if I at least had Swarovski crystals on hand for her to do it herself, because she wasn’t going to her after party without extra sparkle.”

Franco joined in, leaning against the counter and shaking his head. “I don’t know how you put up with this.”

“And what about you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Any exciting AV work today?”

Franco paused, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “You could say that. It’s a little more... hands-on today, you know?”

“Right,” I said, nodding as if I understood. “Lots of wires and soundboards, I bet. Very technical.”

“What can I say?” Franco replied, his grin widening. “I’m a man of many talents.”

“Clearly.” I gestured to the thermos. “Like carrying around fancy tea and converting clueless shop managers into maté fans.”

“Fancy tea again? Y/N, you’re killing me,” he said, clutching his chest.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll respect the maté. But only because it’s actually pretty good.”

“Good answer,” he said, giving me a wink.

For a moment, we just stood there, the comfortable silence punctuated by the distant hum of the paddock coming to life.

“You know,” Franco said finally, glancing at his watch, “I should probably get going. Qualifying’s not going to prepare itself.”

“Oh, right. Your very important AV duties,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly.” He lingered for a second longer before turning toward the door. “Don’t let anyone ask you for passionfruit purple hats today.”

“No promises,” I called after him.

As the door swung shut behind him, I found myself smiling again. There was something about Franco—something easy and infectious—that made my day feel a little lighter.

…

In the evening the paddock got quiet, the hum of activity winding down as the sun dipped below the horizon. Most of the crowd had dispersed, leaving behind the faint sounds of tools clinking in garages and muted laughter from hospitality suites above.

I finished wiping down the counter, my eyes scanning the shelves for anything out of place. There was still inventory to complete, but for now, the stillness felt like a small victory.

I was halfway through adjusting a rack of shirts when a voice broke the silence.

“You haven’t closed the shop yet?”

I turned, heart skipping a beat, to see Franco leaning against the doorframe. His hoodie and cap cast his face in partial shadow, but his green eyes were unmistakable, glinting with mischief.

“You again?” I said, a laugh bubbling up despite my surprise. “What is this, your evening shift?”

“Exactly,” he said, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Someone’s gotta make sure everything’s in order.”

“Right,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Because you’re clearly the expert on retail management.”

Franco grinned, brushing past me to inspect the hats on display. “You’re doing a great job, by the way. Everything looks very... symmetrical.”

“Thanks for the expert feedback,” I said, laughing. “Shouldn’t you be doing something important right now? Like, I don’t know, AV things?”

“Done for the day,” he said, casually flipping a hat onto its stand. “And anyway, I couldn’t just walk by without saying hi.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound unimpressed, though the warmth creeping into my cheeks betrayed me.

Franco leaned against the counter, his gaze sweeping over my setup. “So, how’s it going? Any more requests for glitter shirts?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it,” I said, laughing. “Someone asked if I had a distressed Mercedes hoodie for them. ‘Rick Owens’ vibe was what they said, I believe.”

Franco snorted, shaking his head. “And what did you say?”

“I told them I didn’t think team-approved merch came pre-ripped,” I replied. “They asked if I had scissors.”

He laughed, the sound warm and easy. “You’re a stronger person than me. I’d have handed them the scissors and said, ‘Go for it.’”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said, grinning.

As we talked, the tension of the day melted away, replaced by the effortless rhythm of our banter. He had this way of making me feel at ease, even when I was convinced he was only here to tease me.

Eventually, I glanced at the clock. “Alright, I need to lock up.”

“Let me help,” Franco offered, already moving to grab a stray box of caps.

“You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he said, flashing me a playful grin. “What kind of company would I be if I didn’t pitch in?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue, watching as he stacked the box neatly against the wall.

“Thanks,” I said as I double-checked the locks.

“No problem,” he replied, leaning casually against the door. “So... do you ever get to enjoy the race, or are you always stuck in here?”

I shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I can hear the cars and feel the atmosphere, which is cool, but I’m usually too busy to watch.”

He raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Wanna change that?”

“What?”

“Come with me,” he said, gesturing toward the staircase. “The garage should still be open.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “The garage? I don’t think I’m allowed over there. Are you even allowed there?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his grin widening. “You’re with me. No one’s going to stop us.”

“Franco…”

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “Live a little.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I sighed and followed him, my heart racing as we crossed the paddock.

The Williams garage was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling paddock outside. The bright fluorescent lights highlighted every polished surface, and the sleek car sat in the middle of the space like a centerpiece in a gallery. It felt strangely intimate, with no engineers or team members left. I hesitated just outside the entrance, my nerves catching up with me now that we were here.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, clutching my bag tightly. “It’s... empty.”

“That’s the best part,” Franco replied, his grin widening as he gestured for me to follow him inside. “No one to stop us.”

I paused, glancing around the pristine space. “I don’t know... This feels like trespassing.”

“It’s not trespassing if I’m the one who brought you,” he said, walking backward as if to coax me forward. “Come on. Live a little.”

I sighed but couldn’t fight back my smile as I followed him in, my sneakers squeaking faintly against the shiny floor. The atmosphere was surreal, and the closer we got to the car, the more my awe grew. I’d seen Formula 1 cars on TV, in pictures, even on the paddock screens—but standing next to one was an entirely different experience.

Franco smirked, gesturing toward the car. “Look here,” he said, crouching slightly to point out the edge of the floorboard. “See how the side pods curve in? That’s for cooling. Air flows through there to keep the engine temperature stable. Without it, you’re toast by lap ten.”

I leaned closer, my brow furrowing as I followed his line of sight. “So... it’s like a high-tech air conditioner for the car?”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening. “Though we call it aero. Sounds cooler, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure. Very fancy.”

Franco stood and walked toward the rear wing, beckoning me to follow. “And this—this is where all the magic happens.”

I trailed after him, folding my arms as he gestured to the intricate structure of the wing. “Let me guess. It’s, uh, what keeps the car from flying off the track?”

“Close,” Franco said, clearly enjoying my attempt. “It’s all about downforce. The rear wing pushes the car into the track so we can go faster through corners. Too little, and you’re skidding all over the place. Too much, and you’re slower on the straights. It’s a balancing act.”

My eyes flicked to the faintly scuffed surface of the wing. “Is that why it looks so... fragile? Like one bump and it’ll fall apart?”

Franco chuckled. “It’s tougher than it looks. But yeah, you don’t want to crash into someone—or something. The engineers would cry.”

I laughed, picturing an entire team of engineers in despair over a dented wing. “So, you actually know what all this stuff does?”

“Of course,” Franco said, his tone almost offended but playful.

“I mean, for an AV guy, you’re awfully... knowledgeable,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

He paused, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “Let’s just say I pay attention.”

“This is insane,” I whispered, taking in all the intricate details of the car again. “It’s... beautiful.”

Franco chuckled. “That’s one way to describe it. Most people just say, ‘Fast.’”

“Well, it’s that too,” I said, shooting him a look. “But seriously... It’s like art.”

“Art that goes over 300 kilometers per hour,” he said, his grin softening. “Wanna sit in it?”

I froze, turning to him with wide eyes. “What? No. I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can,” Franco said, already moving toward the cockpit. “Come on, it’s not going to bite.”

I hesitated, glancing between him and the car. There was something in his expression—playful, but also genuinely encouraging—that made me relent. “Fine. But if anyone finds out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, helping me climb in.

The cockpit was snug—far tighter than I’d expected—and I felt awkward as I tried to maneuver my legs into position. Once I was settled, I placed my hands on the steering wheel cautiously, my heart racing.

“This feels... surreal,” I said, staring at the wheel.

“You look like a pro already,” Franco said, crouching beside the car with his phone in hand.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned, catching the gleam in his eyes.

“Too late,” he said, snapping a picture before I could protest.

“Franco!”

“What?” he said innocently, holding up the photo for me to see. “Look, it’s a good angle. Very Instagram-worthy.”

I groaned, but I couldn’t help laughing. “I look ridiculous.”

“You look cool,” he corrected, saving the photo. “But don’t worry—I’ll send it to you. For your mom, obviously.”

I laughed, the tension easing slightly. “Oh yeah, because my mom’s dying to see me breaking rules in the paddock.”

“She’ll be proud,” Franco said, standing up. “Here, try this.”

He handed me a helmet, which I reluctantly placed on my head. It was far too big, wobbling precariously as I adjusted the strap.

“Okay, this is worse,” I said, my voice muffled by the helmet. “I look like a bobblehead.”

Franco burst out laughing, doubling over as he tried to steady himself. “You’re not wrong, but it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes.

“Definitely,” he said, snapping another picture before I could stop him.

“You’re actually the worst, you know that?” I said, reaching to swat the phone from his hand, but he dodged easily.

“Admit it,” he teased, slipping the phone into his pocket. “You’re having fun.”

I paused, the weight of the helmet making me grin. “Maybe a little.”

“Good,” Franco said, setting the phone down. “That’s the point.”

As we wandered back toward the front of the garage, I couldn’t help glancing over my shoulder at the car one last time. It felt like I’d just stepped into another universe, one far removed from the chaos of my usual day.

“Thanks for this,” I said quietly. “It was... unexpected. In a good way.”

“Anytime,” Franco said, his smile genuine. “Next time, we’ll take it for a spin.”

I snorted. “Yeah, no thanks. I like having a license.”

…

My phone buzzed in my pocket as we reached the door to the paddock’s outer corridor. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen: my colleague’s name lighting up in bold letters.

“Oh shoot,” I said, answering quickly. “Hey, yeah, sorry! I’m on my way now.”

Franco raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently as I finished the call.

“Forgot I’m carpooling,” I explained as I tucked my phone away. “I’m supposed to meet my colleague Alicia in the parking lot, like... five minutes ago.”

“Lucky for you, I know the way,” Franco said with a grin. “Come on. I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said, even as I fell into step beside him.

“I insist,” he said, slipping his hands into his hoodie pockets. “It’s dangerous out there. You might get mobbed by someone asking for sapphire-blue polos again.”

I laughed. “Good point. Better bring backup.”

We walked together through the quiet paddock, the sounds of the race weekend fading into the background. Franco’s pace was unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, and I found myself relaxing despite the mild panic of running late.

“So,” Franco said after a beat, “what’s the plan? Dinner, sleep, and back to the chaos tomorrow?”

“Pretty much,” I replied. “I’ll probably be dreaming about misplaced hats and impossible customer requests.”

“Sounds thrilling,” he teased, glancing over at me.

“Oh, it’s a dream come true,” I joked.

When we reached the parking lot, I slowed, turning toward him. “Thanks for walking me. You didn’t have to, but... it was nice.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said easily, his grin softening. “Oh, before you go—what’s your Instagram?”

“My Instagram?” I repeated, blinking.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll send you the pictures. Besides, it’s a nice excuse to text you later.”

His tone was casual, but the glint in his eyes gave away the playful intent.

“Smooth,” I said, smiling as I typed my handle into his phone.

“What can I say?” he replied, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve got my moments.”

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned to leave. But before I’d even made it to Alicia’s car, my phone buzzed again.

I glanced down at the screen, expecting a message, but instead, I saw a follow request. Franco Colapinto.

Curious, I tapped on his profile—and froze.

There it was, plain as day: Williams Racing Driver.

My jaw dropped. I turned back toward him, still standing where we’d parted, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught me staring.

“You’re a driver?” I asked, loud enough for him to hear across the lot.

He sauntered closer, his grin widening. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“No!” I said, my cheeks warming. “You let me think you were just—”

“Just what?” he asked, his voice full of teasing amusement. “The AV guy?”

“Yes!”

Franco laughed, the sound warm and easy. “I never said that. You just assumed. I wasn’t about to ruin the fun.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped, caught off guard by the way he was looking at me—not smug, but something softer.

“You’re enjoying yourself way too much right now.”

“Can you blame me?” he said, his grin widening.

I felt my cheeks warm and quickly looked away, fiddling with a stray cap on the counter. “Well, excuse me for not keeping tabs on every random person who shows up in the paddock.”

“Random?” he gasped dramatically, leaning closer. “You wound me, Y/N.”

I tried to suppress a smile, focusing hard on arranging the caps. “You know what I mean.”

Franco’s teasing softened, and his voice lowered just enough to make my pulse quicken. “Don’t worry. I get it. I joined mid-season—no merch, no big fuss. Kind of nice, actually.”

I shook my head, biting back a smile as Alicia honked the car horn, impatient. I glanced over my shoulder, then back at Franco.

“Well, good luck tomorrow, driver,” I said, emphasizing the word with a playful grin.

“Thanks,” he said, stepping closer, his tone dipping into something more deliberate. “And if I score points, you’ll come celebrate, right?”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider it. “I don’t know... What kind of celebration are we talking about?”

“The fun kind,” he said, his green eyes glinting. “Drinks, music... Maybe even some dancing, if you’re up for it.”

My cheeks warmed again, but this time I didn’t shy away. “Alright. If you score points, I’m in.”

“Good,” he said, stepping back with a wink. “I’ll hold you to that.”

I turned and headed to Alicia’s car, my heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the hurried pace. As I slid into the passenger seat, my phone buzzed again—a message from Franco.

You’re going to have fun tomorrow. Trust me. ;)

I couldn’t help but smile as I replied: You better deliver, Colapinto.

…

Franco had just wrapped up his post-race interviews, a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through him. Eighth place—points for Williams. It wasn’t a podium, but it felt like a win. The team’s hospitality suite loomed just ahead, buzzing with the chatter of staff, sponsors, and VIP guests waiting to congratulate him.

The Williams event manager was already gesturing for him to join the group. “Franco, let’s keep moving. You’re late for the team celebration.”

But Franco barely slowed his stride. His gaze flicked across the paddock and landed on the merchandise store. His grin widened.

“Give me a minute,” he said, waving her off.

“Franco—” she started, exasperated, but he was already heading toward the shop.

…

I was busy ringing up yet another Charles Leclerc cap when I felt the store’s energy shift. A hush swept over the customers, quickly replaced by murmurs.

“Is that...?” one whispered loudly.

“Oh my God, it’s Franco Colapinto!” another exclaimed.

I glanced up, my heart skipping a beat as Franco strolled in, still wearing his race suit, unzipped to reveal the Williams-branded undershirt beneath. His hair was slightly tousled, and he had that unmistakable post-race glow—the combination of effort and adrenaline that made him look annoyingly good. His green eyes scanned the shop before locking onto me.

He ignored the sudden buzz of whispers and phones being whipped out, walking straight to the counter with that easy confidence.

“Well?” he said, leaning on the counter with a grin.

“Well, what?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady even as my heart raced.

“I delivered,” he said casually, though the pride in his voice was unmistakable.

“Congratulations,” I said warmly, matching his grin despite myself. “Eighth place, right?”

“That’s right.” He leaned closer, his grin softening into something a little more intimate. “And now I’m here to confirm our deal.”

“Our deal?” I asked, feigning ignorance just to tease him.

Franco let out a mock groan, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You promised to celebrate if I scored points.”

“Did I?” I asked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a flutter through my chest. “Don’t make me beg.”

Behind him, a small group of customers was watching the interaction with barely-contained excitement. One braver fan held up a notebook. “Franco! Can you sign this?”

Without even looking back, Franco waved a hand in polite dismissal. “Not now, amigo.”

Another fan piped up, “Are you actually in here to buy something?”

Franco turned his head slightly, smirking. “Nah, just confirming plans. Way more important.”

I bit my lip to keep from laughing as the customers exchanged incredulous looks. Turning my attention back to him, I tilted my head. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep my word. What’s the plan?”

“I’ll send you the details later,” Franco said, standing up straight. His voice softened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No backing out. You owe me one for carrying all those hats yesterday.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, my cheeks warming under his gaze.

“Good,” Franco said, stepping back with a wink.

Just as he turned to leave, the sharply-dressed Williams event manager appeared in the doorway, clipboard clutched tightly. “Franco! There you are. Hospitality, now. You’re already late.”

“On my way,” he said, before glancing back at me one last time. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.”

“See you,” I replied, my voice light but sincere.

With one final wink, he spun on his heel and strode out of the store, leaving a trail of astonished fans and a flustered me in his wake. As the door swung shut behind him, I caught sight of him being hurried across the paddock by the event manager, his confident stride unshaken.

…

The rooftop lounge was bathed in golden light, the glittering city skyline providing a stunning backdrop. The hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and bursts of laughter filled the air, creating the perfect atmosphere for celebration. Franco had done it—points for Williams, a solid achievement for the team and a personal milestone for him.

I hesitated as I stepped onto the terrace, smoothing down my black dress. The outfit wasn’t anything too fancy, but it felt a world apart from my usual paddock uniform. My nerves buzzed, not because of the party but because of who had insisted I come.

I spotted Franco near the balcony, his white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a drink in hand as he nodded politely at something a sponsor was saying. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes flicked over the crowd with purpose. When his gaze landed on me, his grin spread instantly, bright and unmistakably boyish.

“Excuse me,” he said abruptly to the group around him, his voice cutting through their chatter. Without waiting for their response, he made his way toward me, weaving through the crowd with ease.

“You made it,” he said, stopping in front of me, his green eyes scanning me like he was committing every detail to memory.

“I did,” I replied, my voice light. “And you’re not exactly hard to find.”

“I try to be memorable,” he teased, though his grin softened into something warmer. He took a step back, his gaze lingering. “You look... wow.”

“Wow?” I raised an eyebrow, though my cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

“Yeah, wow,” he said earnestly, as if the word itself wasn’t enough. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Is that your way of saying I usually look terrible?” I joked, tilting my head.

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I mean—no. You always look great, but this is... different. Amazing.”

My cheeks flushed even more, and I let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“I clean up when I have to,” he replied, his grin widening.

We stood near the edge of the terrace, the noise of the party fading into the background. Franco didn’t seem to notice the occasional glances or murmurs from other guests. His focus was entirely on me, his posture relaxed yet intent.

“So, what’s the verdict on this party?” I asked, gesturing slightly to the scene around us.

“Not bad,” he said with a shrug. “But it just got better.”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “You’re too much.”

Before he could reply, someone called his name from across the terrace. Franco turned briefly, offering a polite wave, but his attention snapped back to me almost instantly.

“Busy man,” I teased, my eyes sparkling.

“Not tonight,” he replied firmly.

But the interruptions kept coming. A Williams team member approached with a clipboard, another guest hovered nearby with a congratulatory drink in hand, and a photographer gestured for Franco to join a group photo. Each time, he handled it quickly, his attention darting back to me as soon as he could.

“Sorry,” he said after the third interruption, shaking his head. “That’s the last one. I swear.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, my tone teasing but understanding.

“Not really,” he admitted, his grin sheepish. “But I’d rather be here with you.”

My chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone, but before I could respond, another call of his name rang out. Franco sighed, glancing briefly toward the source.

“Want a drink?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost intimate amidst the bustling terrace.

“Sure,” I said, nodding.

Franco led me to the bar, keeping close as we moved through the crowd. He ordered for both of us without hesitation, handing me a glass of sparkling water when I mentioned I wasn’t drinking.

“To today,” he said, raising his glass.

“To eighth place,” I replied, clinking mine lightly against his.

“And to making this the best part of the night,” he added, his grin softening as he looked at me over the rim of his glass.

As we lingered by the bar, the interruptions became harder to ignore. A sponsor insisted on pulling Franco into another photo, while a team member gestured impatiently for him to join a group near the balcony. He handled each one politely but quickly, his focus always returning to me.

“You know,” I said after a particularly persistent interruption, “you’re kind of in demand tonight.”

“Let them wait,” he replied, his voice steady.

“They don’t seem like the waiting type,” I teased.

“Too bad,” he said, his grin unwavering. “I’ve got better company.”

My heart skipped at the conviction in his tone, but before I could respond, yet another call of his name rang out. This time, Franco sighed audibly, shaking his head.

“I think that’s my cue,” he said, glancing back at me. “To suggest we sneak out.”

“Sneak out of your own party?” I repeated, my brow lifting slightly.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin returning. “Somewhere quieter. Just us.”

I hesitated, glancing around the bustling terrace. “Won’t people notice?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t really care.”

The quiet certainty in his voice made me smile. “Alright. Let’s go.”

…

Franco led me toward a side exit at the edge of the terrace, his hand lightly brushing my back as we weaved through the thinning crowd. The rooftop celebrations carried on without a hitch, the laughter and clinking of glasses fading into the background as we slipped through the door.

“This way,” he said, holding the door open for me with a mischievous grin.

I stepped into a narrow stairwell, the dim emergency lights casting soft shadows on the walls. “We’re really doing this?”

“Of course,” Franco said, closing the door behind us. “What’s a celebration without a little adventure?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head. “This feels so dramatic. What, no rooftop helicopter getaway?”

“Next time,” he quipped, his grin widening as he started down the stairs.

The faint creak of the metal staircase echoed with each step, the quiet amplifying the flutter in my chest. By the time we reached the fire escape at ground level, the cool night air rushed in, refreshing and grounding.

“This is... a little ridiculous,” I said, glancing around at the empty alleyway we’d stepped into.

“Ridiculously fun,” Franco corrected, offering me his hand to help me down the last step.

I rolled my eyes but took it, his grip warm and steady. “Alright, what now?”

“Trust me,” he said, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. “I know the perfect spot.”

…

The city streets were quieter than I’d expected, the buzz of the race weekend giving way to a more subdued hum of nightlife. Franco walked beside me, his hands in his pockets, his pace unhurried.

“Any preferences?” he asked, tilting his head toward me.

I shrugged, smiling. “Surprise me.”

He led me down a narrow side street, the glow of streetlights reflecting off the cobblestones. We stopped in front of a small, cozy shop with large windows and shelves of colorful bottles displayed inside.

“This place,” Franco said, nodding toward the door. “Best snacks and drinks you’ll find this late.”

The warm scent of freshly fried food greeted us as we stepped inside. Franco approached the counter like a man on a mission, ordering two plates of dumplings and two bottles of Ramune without hesitation.

I watched as he expertly popped the marble stopper on one of the sodas, the sound crisp and satisfying. He handed it to me with a grin. “Here. Best part of the whole drink.”

“You make it sound like magic,” I said, laughing as I took the bottle.

“It kind of is,” he replied, popping the second bottle for himself.

We carried our food and drinks outside, settling on a low wall just across the street. The city lights sparkled in the distance, the occasional hum of a passing car filling the quiet.

I picked up a dumpling, steam curling from its surface. “You really know how to celebrate, huh?”

“Hey, who needs champagne when you’ve got gyoza and Ramune?” Franco said, holding up his bottle in a mock toast.

I laughed, clinking my bottle lightly against his. “Cheers to that.”

The quiet of the street wrapped around us, a comforting hum of distant city life providing a soft backdrop as we lingered outside the noodle shop. Our conversation had slowed, dipping into a comfortable silence as we finished our meal. Franco turned his soda bottle in his hand, the faint clink of the marble stopper breaking the stillness.

He glanced at me, his gaze lingering a little too long. When I met his eyes, there was something unspoken there—warmth, maybe, or a kind of vulnerability that caught me off guard.

“What?” I asked softly, tilting my head.

“Nothing,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But then he hesitated, his fingers tightening around the bottle before he set it down beside him. “Actually... not nothing.”

My brow furrowed slightly as I waited, the weight of his pause pulling my attention fully to him.

“You ever feel like...” He trailed off, letting out a soft laugh, almost like he was laughing at himself. “Like you’re doing something incredible, something people would kill to do, but... it still feels like something’s missing?”

His words hit me with unexpected bluntness, the rawness in his tone making my chest tighten. I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do. It’s like... you’re proud of it, but it’s not the whole picture. It’s not everything.”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “Don’t get me wrong, I love driving. It’s my dream, always has been. But...” He exhaled, his eyes dropping briefly before flicking back to mine. “It can be... lonely sometimes. You’re surrounded by people, always moving, but you don’t really get to... connect. Not like this.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his words. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” he said simply, his gaze steady on mine. “This. Talking to someone who isn’t asking about lap times or tire strategy. Someone who actually listens. It’s... rare.”

My chest tightened at his words, and I shifted slightly, my fingers toying with the edge of my sleeve. “It’s not just you,” I admitted, my voice quiet but steady. “I think everyone feels that way sometimes. Like you’re doing something amazing, but... it’s still missing something.”

I hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the soda bottle in my hand. “I love working in F1. I really do. But... I miss my friends back home sometimes. Even though my colleagues are nice, it’s not the same. It’s hard to meet people you really connect with when you’re constantly on the move.”

Franco tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening. “Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

“I guess I never really expected to meet someone here...” I paused, searching for the right words. “...who it suddenly feels so easy with.”

He didn’t look away, his expression steady as if he understood exactly what I meant. “I get it,” he said softly. “More than you know.”

The air between us felt heavier now, thick with unspoken understanding. I met his eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was something grounding in the way he looked at me, like he wasn’t just hearing me but seeing me completely.

…

When we reached the hotel, I slowed to a stop, turning to face Franco just outside the entrance. He mirrored me, his hands slipping from his pockets as he stood a little closer than before.

“Well,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “this is me.”

“So it is,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips.

There was a beat of silence, the soft hum of the city filling the space between us. He looked at me, his green eyes studying my face like he was memorizing every detail.

“I wish I didn’t have to say goodnight,” he said quietly, his voice dropping to something softer, almost vulnerable.

My breath caught, the simplicity of his words hitting me harder than I expected. I opened my mouth to respond, but the look in his eyes—the way his usual teasing warmth had melted into something so unguarded—rendered me speechless.

“I mean it,” he continued, his lips twitching into a small, self-deprecating smile. “This... tonight... I don’t want it to end.”

My chest tightened, a warmth spreading through me that I couldn’t quite name. “Franco...”

“I know,” he said, cutting me off gently. His grin softened as he glanced down for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “It’s just... it’s been a while since I felt this way. Since someone made me feel this way.”

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and unfiltered. My cheeks flushed, my heart pounding as the distance between us suddenly felt too much. I took a small step closer, my voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to say goodnight just yet.”

The tension in the air thickened, the playful energy we’d carried through the evening now replaced by something deeper, heavier, and undeniable. Franco’s hand lifted slowly, his fingers brushing against my cheek as though he was afraid to break the moment. His touch was light, tentative, but the warmth of it sent a shiver down my spine.

He closed the remaining distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a kiss that was soft at first, careful, like he was savoring a moment he didn’t want to rush. The hesitation melted away almost instantly, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other hand rested lightly on my waist. The kiss deepened, unhurried but intense, a perfect balance of passion and tenderness. I could feel his heartbeat beneath my palms as my hands rested against his chest.

Franco tilted his head slightly, his lips moving against mine with a certainty that made my knees feel unsteady. Every movement felt deliberate, like he was pouring every unspoken word, every emotion he couldn’t quite articulate, into the kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, the world felt quieter, as though the night had paused just for us.

Franco’s thumb brushed against my cheek as he studied my face, his green eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name but didn’t need to.

“See you at the next race?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with hope and certainty all at once.

“For sure,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper but steady.

His lips curved into a slow, almost disbelieving smile, his hand lingering on my waist for a moment longer before he stepped back.

As I turned and stepped inside the hotel, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced down, my cheeks still warm. A message from Franco lit up my screen:

You’ve completely ruined me, you know that? Best night ever.

I smiled to myself, my heart still racing as the elevator doors closed.

…

I groggily blinked awake, the sunlight peeking through the hotel curtains. My head felt heavy, and for a moment, I debated rolling over and falling right back asleep. But then my phone buzzed on the nightstand, the faint vibration pulling me from the haze of sleep. I reached over, squinting at the screen as I unlocked it.

Three missed calls. A text from Alicia, my colleague, stood out at the top of the notifications.

Why the hell are you on Franco Colapinto’s Instagram story eating dumplings with him on the pavement???

I frowned, propping myself up slightly against the headboard. What?

My thumb hovered over the message before tapping it, and an attached screenshot filled the screen. I blinked at it, then blinked again, sitting up straighter.

There it was, in all its glory: a grainy yet oddly endearing photo of Franco and me, still dressed from last night, sitting on the street outside the noodle shop. Plates of gyoza were scattered between us, the remnants of our late-night feast. My laughter was frozen mid-moment, one hand holding one of the little snacks while the other gestured animatedly. Franco was grinning at me, his green eyes glinting under the dim streetlights.

The caption read: Late-night dining, five stars.

I groaned, half in disbelief, half in embarrassment, as I clicked out of the screenshot and into Instagram itself. Sure enough, Franco’s story was still live. I stared at it for a moment, heat rising to my cheeks, before my phone buzzed again.

Another text from Alicia.

Is this what you do when you “stay late to lock up”? GIRL. DETAILS. NOW.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as I set the phone down. The embarrassment I’d expected to feel never fully settled in. Instead, a warmth bloomed in my chest, the memory of last night—the dumplings, the laughter, the kiss—playing back in my mind.

I sat back against the pillows, staring at the sunlight filtering through the curtains. My phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t a notification or a frantic message from Alicia. It was Franco.

Hope you’re not mad about the dumpling photo. Just wanted to remember the best night I’ve had in a while.

I smiled, the warmth in my chest spreading as I typed out a reply.

Not mad. But you owe me breakfast for making me Instagram famous.

The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Deal. I’ll pick you up in 30.

I laughed softly, setting my phone down on the bedside table. Outside, the city was waking up, but for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was rushing to keep up with it. Instead, I let myself sink into the quiet, a lingering sense of joy wrapping around me like a blanket.

#f1 x reader #fc43 x reader #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto imagine #franco colapinto fanfic #f1 fanfic #franco colapinto oneshot #franco colapinto x you

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aklxojjk · 8 months ago

Text

Chica Tímida

[ Gekko x Fem!Reader ] Gekko looks through your phone and finds the Spanish lessons Reyna was giving you.

note - This has the smallest amount of lore, reader understands Spanish but doesn't know how to speak very well, i got most of my Spanish from my Mexican friend so if its wrong please let me know. ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR THE GRAMMAR.

w/c - 2k

warnings - Smut, praise, dirty talk, dirty talk in Spanish, very passionate, riding, fingering.

purple text is Reyna and green is Gekko in case y'all get confused.

MDNI

You sit up in your small but comfortable bed rubbing your eyes, looking at your clock it shines a bright 7:00 AM at you. Groaning slightly you get up and make your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on you start brushing your teeth immediately. After getting done with your daily skincare routine you change into more acceptable clothing, since you sleep with just panties and a shirt on every day.

Making your way to the kitchen you see a bare-faced Reyna drinking some black coffee.

"Good morning chica." She says in between sips.

"Morning... I just had the worst sleep ever, felt like I just took a nap, you?" Yawning you make your way to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and some scrambled eggs with bacon.

"it was alright, our work has been pretty complicated lately" She looks at you with a sly smile.

"Why are you looking at me like that Reyna... What did I do this time?" you give her a smile taking the seat in front of her, taking a sip of your coffee.

"How have you and Gekko been?" Her tone is playful.

"We've been good unless he told you otherwise…?" your statement comes out more like a question.

"No, he told me you guys were closer than ever... but he wishes you were closer if you know what I mean." she sips her coffee nonchalantly.

"I see, I mean the only reason I've been hesitating is because I wish I could talk to him more you know... sensually but in Spanish." looking away from her, you feel your cheeks grow warm.

Your relationship with Reyna has always been really good even before Gekko joined the team, but recently you noticed that she has been talking to him more, and that made you feel as if you couldn't share information with her about your relationship with Gekko. Maybe it was the fear that she would disapprove of you guys relationship or perhaps you were just too timid to share all the details.

"How about I teach you some phrases?"

"Please do" Pulling up the notepad app on your phone you give her a nod as if to say 'I'm ready'

"Just give me your phone I'll write them down for you"

You immediately give her the phone and finish your breakfast, grabbing her empty plate and putting it in the sink. When you come back she puts your phone in front of you, smirking.

"'Okay let's see if the pro has game" You smile at her and pick up the phone.

qué guapo estás

me encatas

estoy loca por ti

Estoy pensando en ti todo el tiempo

estás bueno

cógeme

https://www.spanish_pillow_talk.com

You can understand most of these except for the word before the link, they were normal compliments one would give their partner.

"What does cógeme mea-" Your sentence is cut short when wingman jumps in your lap, meaning Gekko is not too far behind.

"Hola amiguito"

"Hi wingman" you say before squeezing the poor little guy.

"Hola mi Reyna, hola mi cariño" his arms wrap around you from behind and you feel his head on top of yours, before you could look up he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and heads to the kitchen to grab his breakfast.

"Te ves guapo hoy." you immediately shift your gaze to Reyna looking for some sort of approval, and she nods slowly.

"Only today? I thought I looked good every day." His laugh can be heard from far away, that laugh that you so loved.

"You know what I mean" Rolling your eyes you click on the link that Reyna had left on your notes, the website took a while to load so you just went to get water.

"Gekko you've got training later today with Harbor, I totally wish I could stay pero yo tengo una meeting con brimstone" Reyna stands up making her way out the door.

"So I was thinking we could hang out before you have to train" You come back to the table water in hand, and as you sit down you notice your phone is missing. 'Where is my phone?' you thought lifting the table cloth and checking all of Gekko's pets to see if they had it, but your phone was still missing.

"So what exactly do you mean by "hang" before I train" he has a slight smile on his face, he's holding your phone reading something off it.

"just hang out in your room- Oh." you quickly snatched your phone off his hand, checking what he was reading. Your phone read: 'Pillow talk in Spanish'

“just hang?”

"I was asking Reyna how to uhm compliment you in Spanish and she… she recommended that website!" your nervousness gave it away, he knew you were lying.

“so Reyna recommended you to talk dirty to me? no necesitas mentirme, estoy tan duro pensando en ti” He’s no longer interested in his food but rather you.

You look down at your notes analyzing everything you could say to him right now. “okay maybe we won’t just hang, but please speak slowly so I can understand you.” Eyebrows dropping as if begging him for mercy.

“Of course,” He took his time throwing all the trash out and leaving the dishes in the sink, but once he was done he lifted you making your legs wrap around his waist. “I’ll do whatever you ask me to”

As he walked to the room he kept giving quick pecks on your lips and cheeks, making you blush as you looked him deeply in those brown eyes of his. Gekko is okay with PDA but knowing you don’t like it, he chose to not embarrass you in case someone comes out of their room.

Stopping the kisses to get the door open, he sits down on the edge of the bed with you still in his lap. He pushes his lips against yours again when all of a sudden he bites your lip softly and you open your mouth just enough to let his tongue in, the heat is intensifying and your moans start getting more audible. Your hips can’t help but grind against his clothed dick, which he responds with helping hands deepening the friction. You both break the kiss to catch your breath but when you are about to go back in he makes you stand, then spins you around so your back is facing him and he sits you down again on his lap.

“Relax cariño,” You feel his warm breath as he gets closer to your neck, then your shoulders, then up to your face… teasing you slowly as he leaves a trail of kisses. His hands caress your hips just above your panties, his digits twirl around the cloth, he subsequently slides it off your thigh then drops it on the floor. “Estas tan mojada” he whispers in your ear as his hands roam all around your thigh but not where you need him most. One of his hands leaves your thigh and you feel his digits go up and down your slit, spreading it, collecting some of your wetness.

your hand covers your mouth making it very hard for him to hear you, you didn’t mind that since this whole situation made you so timid.

“Why are you so quiet.. am I not doing this right?” You feel Gekko’s frown as he kisses your neck before he pushes his fingers inside you, gently pumping you, curving them ever so slightly trying to find your sweet spot.

“Cojame porfa..” You didn't mean for it to come as a whimper but you’re glad it did because he started fingering you deeper and faster, every pump hitting your sweet spot and making you huff and whimper out his name.

“I will as soon as you cum” his voice low as he concentrated on making you feel good, his free hand stops roaming your hips now cupping one of your breasts fidgeting with your nipple. He knows you’re close and that's turning him on. “Tan hermosa” his whispers in your ear tickle, you turn your head to look at him with eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

“I’m about to- “ his glistening wet fingers slide out of you leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, but that's instantly replaced with pleasure when he starts rubbing circles on your clit. You can’t manage to get any words out as your orgasm takes over you, leaving your legs trembling and your eyes closed shut.

His fingers start rapidly rubbing your sensitive spot as you're coming down from your high, the movement makes you throw your head back against his shoulder. Once you’ve stopped trembling you hide your face on his neck, kissing it and marking your territory.

He once again makes you stand up only this time though he stands up with you sliding his pants down, he sits back down on the bed with his arms behind him to support him.

You try to be sexy by leaning down and rubbing him through his boxers but he pulls you in by the waist forcing you to fall on top of him, you lift yourself off of him and pull his boxers down. One of his hands is firmly gripping your waist and the other is still behind him.

“Me encanta cuando me miras así” This is probably the most you have used your brain to speak Spanish but it pays off seeing the look he gave you.

“yeah?” the hand on your waist forces you down on him earning a moan from you as he took you by surprise, you both let out a groan as more of him slides inside. Both his hands grab a hold of your ass and start moving you, making you grind on him. You speed up as he adjusts himself inside you, thinking the grinding isn't enough you start to bounce on him. He lays back down pulling you with him, kissing you passionately as his back hits the mattress.

“qué rico mami, me encantas” He whispers sweetly in your ear while his hands rub your back, his lips giving you a small kiss on the cheek, then your lips, then down your neck. “I love you”

“I love you too” You’re drunk off his love, eyes closed, smiling at anything he says, craving his touch as you push your body against his. All of that comes to an end when you open your eyes and go back to riding on him, he pulls you down just enough to be able to grab your boobs. You look at him sweetly and he does the same to you, he adores you.

His eyebrows furrowed as you picked up a pace and his hands left your torso and are now on your hips again, making you grind faster. One of his hands leaves your side and holds your face making you look at him as he’s about to cum. He wants to see your face when you finish with him inside, he wants to see you throw your head back, your mouth part open, and he wants to hear you moan his name.

His eyes are closed but he tries to keep them half open as he's about to cum, your mouth agape slightly as you feel your second orgasm arrive. You push your lips against his own as you both moan in each other mouth, his hands never leaving you.

Gasping for air you part ways, getting off him and lying next to each other you both stare at each other. Nothing but love in both your eyes, smiling wide you giggle a bit.

"¿qué~?" he hugs you as you both laugh

“you should speak Spanish more often, you sound so sexy” You say with your face in his neck

“you should too, i loved it.”

#x reader #smut #mateo x reader #gekko x reader #gekko smut #gekko valorant #valorant smut #valorant #valorant x reader

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astrologanize · 6 months ago

Text

pick a card : what can you do to ensure your blessings?❂

*please take a moment to take a deep breath and choose the image you are most drawn towards*

———-for pile 1 ⊹

do you ever feel like a plastic bag-...no, nvm, but do you ever feel like you've been typecasted? like you have been pigeonholed into being something for so long and now you're just attached to this identity a lil too much? cuz i'm seeing someone who is living as though they're an elderly person who is too set in their ways. you are the classic case of your ego blocking your blessings!

the only way for you to ensure your blessings is to start paying closer attention & recognizing the uninspired patterns of behavior you possess because there is too much ego and too much stagnancy. you can experience the life you desire if you rework your expectations and realize that what you've been accepting as your life is really a path that requires minimal motivation from you - there is no zest! no lust for life! if you are dealing with any sort of depression or low mood i can understand the lack of motivation but i'm afraid you have to actively participate in your life in order for it to change.

once you begin to rework your expectations and become an active participant in your life you will be amazed by all that you attract. you could go from being a homebody to the life of the party, you could start attracting a bunch of different people, you could start attracting a lot of attention, especially romantic attention, and you'll finally start feeling free and able to see all the choices you have for yourself and your life. there are joyous times waiting for you! stop settling for the sake of ego, set aside your pride and choose life.

———-for pile 2 ⊹

if you know better then do better. although i am seeing you open to the world, it is not in a way that is conducive to attracting what you truly desire for yourself. you're someone who seems to be winging your way through life but you're not necessarily taking chances or risks, at least none that are major or worth much. it's kind of reminding me of 'good will hunting'...like you're this person who does have strong capabilities but you're not believing such or doing anything with them.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to start shaping yourself to be a well-defined person who understands their capabilities and decides to do something with them. time to work on your ability to be decisive! i do not think it will be a smooth ride for you in doing so because you will run into some temporary problems as you make the transition but you will finally be doing something different with your life.

an annoying adjustment period is standing between you and your blessings! but the blessings are lovely; your connections with others will surely improve as you come more into your own as a well-defined person and you're able to show up in the connections as such - you'll be receptive to them and they'll be receptive to you because you will have an improved relationship with boundaries. 'you're okay' wanted to come through for you <3 take some deep breaths and know that you are more capable than you think you are. also it's coming through that you guys should take more photos! whether that's of yourselves or with others or of your life.

———-for pile 3 ⊹

lol y'all are giving baby energy...if you're under the age of 22 then you being childish makes sense but if you're over the age of 22 then it's giving adultchild. you guys are killing the mood ngl, i'm seeing that you have the tendency to be pessimistic, creatures of habit, and lazy. no bueno. it's reminding me of water placements that refuse to get their shit together.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to stop wallowing in your emotions and allowing your emotions to control you, therapy may be a good option for you but ultimately you need to start learning how to properly share & confide your emotions. this does involve you also learning how to regulate your emotions and recognizing what you are actually feeling instead of it being an endless cluster of emotions and moods. sorry but ya gotta build some structure in your life!

this will be a tedious process because you're going to have to dish out some tough truths to yourself and point the finger to the mirror so you can get a grip on your life. how can the blessings come when you're choosing to stay under all your perceived misfortunes?

———-for pile 4 ⊹

i fear you are missing the fruits of life by focusing too heavily on your own ambitions. it's not a bad thing that you are someone who has pursuits of your own that you want to follow but when its to the point of neglecting connectivity with others then it is a problem. you get so caught up in thinking that life is going to pass you by & that you need to do all these things in order to attain happiness or a sense of achievement/fulfillment that you end up living a life based in fear & bulldozing your way through life.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to calm down and breathe and trust that good things are happening instead of getting in your extreme existential moods that cause nothing but issues and stress and create blockage. your existential crisis for your life is making you miss out on the people around you and chances to connect on a deeper level because you're so fixated on what you think you should/need to be doing for yourself.

taking a step back from your own vortex and quelling these fears will help you to become present in your life. you will be able to have heart to hearts with people, conversations that give you the chance to improve and further the emotional intimacy in your life. life will stop feeling like an uphill battle and you will no longer be chasing fulfillment but instead actually embracing it.

———-for pile 5 ⊹

you have resigned yourself to a supposed fate that is not meant for you. either you are living your life not on your terms & enduring things that truly do not resonate with you and/or you are hung up on what you thought your life would be like & won't stop beating that dead horse. it's seeming like you're a glutton for punishment at times and choose to dwell on shoulda woulda coulda's.

in order for you to ensure your blessings you gotta do some soul searching to figure out what actually does resonate with you because once you know that, whatever you put your mind to...you will be able to attain it with far greater ease than you know. start journaling, writing affirmations, writing down manifestations, the power of the mind and tongue is palpable for you. it's time to utilize your wits, speak your mind, express your thoughts! there is too much you are lamenting and not enough creation happening, which only furthers the feeling of you being stuck.

in doing this, you will be giving up something in your life...whether it be a path you're going down or a mindset that is not serving you, whatever it is...it will be a relief for you to no longer persist with something that has offered little to no benefit for you. a new realm will begin to form as you figure out your way of truth, no more shall you be a sitting duck refusing to surrender to the beautiful waves of life. believe in the life that is and is to come!!!!!!

———-for pile 6 ⊹

suffer in silence type, perhaps? i'm seeing that you have the tendency to have a major guard up, you stick to what you know, you hold yourself back due to your own fears, and the crown is befitting because you do feel the need to hold your head high. unfortunately this does not allow for energy to flow to you though!

in order for you to ensure your blessings you need to chip away at the walls you've built and start allowing yourself a bit of vulnerability. keeping your feelings to yourself and suffering in silence is creating blockages in many areas of your life because you're living from a place of fear and not honoring sentience. you cannot do everything on your own and there is no reward in trying to. it's time to ask & accept the help of others because you must learn to trust in others and be open to leaving the confinement of your own walls. be a lil helpless, as a treat. it's a wonderful feeling to give momentary reprieve by leaning on another, and it also gives the other person the opportunity to tap into their own humanity by assisting a fellow human.

you trying so hard to stand on your own is only making you shakier! if you allow for vulnerability you will begin to gather your bearings and life will be able to flow for you. even though you will be feeling not as independent as you were of course, your sense of security will drastically improve and you will start to be okay with the bouts of feeling unassured in yourself instead of forcing yourself to always be standing upright (which only leads to instability eventually).

#pick a card #astrologanize #readings #long post

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gavitaffy · 6 months ago

Text

Interview

A/N: HII! This is my first story here on tumblr, I’m excited to hear what you guys think about this (please be nice :’)) I don’t got a lot of experience with writing fan fic’s, but reader? a lot of good experience there. I don’t know completely how tumblr works so smby please teach me

Warnings: None

Not proofread

Pairings: Pablo Gavi x f!reader

You were standing near the field, and 2 minutes were left of the game. The whistle finally blew, Barcelona won, again. You went over to the players with your camera crew looking for any players.

You wandered around with your gifted jersey woth number 6 on it from the club, you were a sports reporter and coming to matches wasn’t rare.

As you stood there for about 5 minutes you finally got a hold of someone, Gavi.

¡Hola Gavi! Felicidades por tú victoria de hoy y 3 goles de esté partido, ¿cómo te sientes? (Hello Gavi! Congratulations with your victory today and 3 goals this match, how are you feeling?)

¡Hola y muchas gracias bonita! ¡Los 3 goles fueron absolutamente increíbles, no me lo esperaba! (Hey and thank you so much beautiful! The 3 goales was completely fantastic had mever imagined me that).

¡Tan bueno! ¿Qué crees que te trajo esta suerte hoy? So good! What do you think gave you the luck today?

You looked Gavi in the eyes as it seemed like he pondered about your question and started to blush

Por supesto mi familia, por supuesto (My family, of course)

¡Que lindo! (How cute)

You turned to the camera and said your goodbyes, right as the camera turned off Gavi said

Quise decir que hoy eras mi amuleto de buena suerte (I meant that you were my good luck charm today)

You looked at Gavi in a mix of shock and admiration

¿Qué quieres decir con eso? (What do you mean by that?)

Lo qué quiero decir con eso es que eres hermosa (What I mean by that is that you’re beautiful)

Both of you started to blush heavily, he noticed this and decided to make a move on you

¿Tienes un marcador? (Do you have a marker?)

Si, aquí (Yes, here)

Quitate eso. (Take that off.)

He pointed at my barcelona jersey. You were shocked by the bold statement, as you took your jersey off, he took his off. The compression sweater fitting his body perfectly, which displayed his abs to the point where you could stare at them for hours.

Déjame firmártelo (Let me sign it for you)

Oh, muchas gracias Gavi (Oh, thank you so much Gavi)

What you didn’t know he didn’t just sign it, but on the inside of the jersey he wrote his number, he gave you his jersey and winked at you saying

Te espero en mi próximo juego hermosa (I expect you at my next game beautiful) he said and walked off

You put his jersey on and now you were a blushing mess, you went straight home and decided to take a shower, but as you took the jersey off it went inside out as you notched the black marker stains, as you studied it closer you saw a number, shocked you sent messages to the unkown number.

Unkown number

Hola, ¿quién es? (hello, who’s this?)

Soy Gavi, ¿no me recuerdas? (it’s Gavi, don’t ou remember me?)

Calro que sí, pero no sabía que eras tú quien escribió el número en la camiseta (Of course, but I didn’t know it was you who wrote the number on my tshirts)

Fui yo😉 (It was me)

¿Para qué quieres mi número en realidad? (What do you need my number for actually?)

Para invitarte a salir en una cita… (To ask you out on a date…)

¿Así que me estás invitando a salir ahora? (So you’re asking me out on a date now?)

Sí, eso estoy haciendo. ¿Mañana a las 17:00 te parece bien? (Yes, I am. Tomorrow at 17:00?)

Me parece perfecto🫶🏼 (Works for me)

Nos vemos entonces🥰 (See you then)

*Phone number saved as Gavi🫶🏼*

A/N: It’s waaay over my bedtime now, first story out of the way! I hope you liked it, maybe a pt. 2 would be fun but we’ll see♥︎

#pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x f!reader #Spotify

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waitimcomingtoo · 1 year ago

Text

SLUT!

chapter three: you and me would be a big conversation

series masterlist

The next few weeks of your relationship involved a lot of sneaking around.

You didn’t want your reputation to get any worse than it already was and being seen with a guy was definitely not going to do you any favors. To avoid the public scrutiny for at least a little while, you kept your dates to places far from campus or Peters favorite, his dorm room.

“I’m knocking on the door.” Ned said loudly from the other side of the door as he knocked repeatedly. Peter stopped kissing you and picked his head up to look at the door.

“We can hear you, Ned.” He sighed as you slid out from under him to sit up on the bed.

“I am opening the door.” Ned announced and then proceeded to fumbled with his room key for the next few minutes as you and Peter sat in silence.

“We know.” You said through a laugh. Ned finally got the door open but had both hands over his eyes and his room key in his mouth.

“Is everyone decent?” Ned asked.

“Yes.” Peter groaned. “Take your hands away from your eyes.”

Ned slowly lowered his hands and sighed in relief when he saw that everyone was fully clothed. You waved at Ned and he smiled as if just realizing you were in the room.

“Hello Y/n.” He said politely.

“Hi Ned. How was Spanish?” You asked him.

“Muy bueno. Gracias. How was fornicating with my childhood best friend?” Ned asked casually.

“What’s fornicating?” You asked Peter as he burned bright red.

“It means sex. And that’s not what was happening.” Peter said and gave Ned a look that told him to stop.

“Oh, really? Tell that to the hickie on your neck.” Ned snorted. Peter covered his forming hickie and looked at you sheepishly.

“Sorry.” You laughed shyly. “I’m a biter.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ned said as he plopped down at his desk. Your smile immediately dropped and Peter was quick to notice.

“I should go.” You faked a smile and hoped off Peters bed.

“Way to go, Ned.” Peter whispered harshly as you left the room. Peter followed you down the hallway and tugged you by the back of your shirt.

“Wait up.” He said as you turned around. You smiled tightly and folded your arms before looking at him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m sorry about him. He didn’t mean that maliciously. He’s just a little dumb.” Peter explained.

“It’s okay. Everyone says it. Why can’t he?” You shrugged it off but Peter could tell you were still upset. He pulled you in and hugged you as he pressed a few kisses to the side of your head.

“I wish we had more privacy. Not that it isn’t exciting to make out until we heard the dulcent sounds of Ned fumbling for his room key.” Peter joked. You smiled as an idea came to you and pulled away from Peter a little to look at him.

“I want to take you somewhere tonight.”

“Oh?” Peter raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“Do you have swim trunks?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Meet me at the old brick building at 7. Don’t be late.” You booped his nose and started to walk away.

“What are we doing?” He called after you.

“You’ll see!” You called back.

At 6:51 that night, Peter stood outside the brick building in his swim trucks and a T shirt. He was freezing since it was mid November now but his anticipation kept him warm. You came around the building in an oversized shirt and smiled when you saw Peter.

“You’re early.” You grinned and hugged him.

“So are you.”

“I am. We’re so alike.”

“We’re nothing alike.” Peter laughed as he rubbed his hand up and down on your back.

“Oh, right. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.” You shrugged and pulled him inside the building. You took the elevator to the basement and led Peter by the hand to an indoor pool. Moonlight was spilling in through tiny windows all along the walls, making the pool light up a pretty shade of aquamarine.

“Woah!” Peter gasped. “This school has a pool?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you see this on your tour?” You asked as you pulled off your t shirt.

“I never toured. They were the only other school to give me full ride so this is where I came.”

“Remind me to show you around. After we go for a swim.” You chuckled and jumped into the water. Peter pulled his shirt off but stood nervously at the edge of the pool.

“Come in! It’s not cold.” You said as you emerged from the water. Peter took a deep breath and jumped in, immediately feeling the chill.

“That’s really cold. You liar!” Peter said through chattering teeth.

“I know. I just wanted you in.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pulled him into a long kiss that warmed Peter right up.

“Ignore my blue lips, please.” He said once he pulled away.

“It’s okay. You’ll warm up soon. Especially if you keep close to me.” You smirked and wrapped your legs around his waist.

“I can do that.” He replied and wrapped his arms around you. You floated around the pool for a while and engaged in a race or two. After a while, Peter noticed a pensive look on your face and swam over to you.

“What’s on your mind?” He wondered.

“I have to admit something.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh? Spill.”

“When we first started hanging out, I was worried you only liked me because you heard I was easy.” You admitted with a certain sadness in your eyes. Peter made a face that you were crazy which made you feel better.

“No. I had no idea. I just thought you were nice. That’s why I liked you.” He told you.

“It’s been a really long time since someone has called me “nice”.” You smiled and didn’t realize how much it would mean to you to be called something other than a slut.

“You are nice. The people on campus don’t you. But I do.” Peter assured you.

“I know you do. It feels good to be known for me and not for some stupid rumors that people made up.” You told him. You stared at each for a moment of quiet understanding. Neither of you had felt truly seen by another person until meeting the other.

“I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for you.” You said quietly.

“I feel that way too.” Peter smiled softly and pulled you through the water to hold you.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You said before pulling him into a kiss. Peter wrapped one arm around your waist and used his free hand to wrap your legs around him. He then slipped his hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. He didn’t know where this confidence was coming but he was going with it.

“Wait.” You said suddenly and pushed him back.

“Sorry. I’m moving too fast.” Peter apologized and put his hands behind his head to keep them off you.

“No, it’s not that. I just think if we get caught making out in this pool we’re not supposed to be in then you’d probably lose your scholarship.” You laughed, making Peter relax.

“Right.” He smiled. “Because I’m poor and smart.”

“We should probably go.” You said and pointed to the ladder to get out.

“Oh. Yeah.” Peter agreed and tried to hide his disappointment that the night was over.

“Together, though.” You added, drawing a smile out of Peter. You dried off with the towels in the locker room before throwing your clothes back on. Once you were dressed, you brought Peter back to your dorm room.

“My roommate went home for the weekend.” You told him as you flipped the light switch on. Peter had never been in your room before so he took his time looking around at all the little things you used to decorate. He noticed your posters and pictures of your friends from high school taped up above your stuffed animals.

“Woah. I’ve never been in the girls dorm before.” Peter smiled as he picked up a plush dog off your bed.

“It’s not that exciting.” You chuckled and snatched the dog from him.

“I promise, I feel very excited right now.” He replied as he sat down on your bed. Girls rooms always smelled so much better than boys and he could sniff out the faint smell of peppermint in the air. You smirked at him and opened the mini fridge to take out a can of ginger ale. You poured it into two little cups and handed him one.

“Clink, clink.” You said and hit your cup against his. In the lighting of your room, Peter was finally able to notice that you weren’t wearing any makeup from the trip to the pool.

“You look pretty with no makeup.” Peter said as it was his first time seeing you undone like this. You laughed as if that was ridiculous and covered your face a little with your hand, which Peter then moved. You looked at him and stopped trying to hide as you no longer felt you had to.

“So do you.” You gently teased him as you leaned in. Peter put his cup down on a nearby dresser and used his recently freed hand to pull you into his lap. He slid his hands up and down your back as you tangled your fingers in his chlorine dampened curls. Something gave you the nerve to push him back into your bed and you both fell back without breaking the kiss. Peter kept his hands in a respectful placement on your hips like the gentleman he was. You pulled away only to catch your breath but ended up getting distracted by Peters pretty face. You traced your fingernail in circles on his cheek and felt him blush under your touch.

“I got pool water on your pillow.” Peter said in a soft voice. You smiled and leaned down to rub your nose against his.

“It’s okay. I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

“I can wash them for you if you want so that you don’t have to sleep on dirty sheets.” Peter offered, giving you an idea.

“I mean, if they’re already dirty, we might as well put them to go use.” You said and leaned down to kiss him again. This kiss was slower and sent butterflies flying into your stomach. Peter picked up on what you were trying to say and felt excitement building up inside him in anticipation of your first time together. You’d never gone further than making out and he was eager to take your relationship to the next level. You could feel Peter pushing your hips down into him and quickly pulled away.

“Sorry.” You said at the same time. Peter could sense you were hesitant to continue so he propped himself up on his elbows to give you some space. You sat up in your elbows as well and gave him a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated. “I know I’m the one that started that but I think I changed my mind. I don’t know if I’m ready to go all the way yet. I’m sorry if I lead you on.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Peter assured you. “You can change your mind anytime you want at any moment you need to. And I don’t know if I was ready for it either. I just got excited.”

“No, I was too. I just don’t want us to move too fast if that’s okay? I don’t want to mess things up by rushing into anything because I really like you and I want us to last.”

“Of course that’s okay. You can always tell me what pace you feel comfortable with. And I really like you too. We can take our time together, okay?” Peter smiled softly at you as he took your hand. You looked at your intertwined hands and realized this was the first time you felt completely safe around a boy.

“You know, Peter, in a world of boys, you really are a gentleman.” You said through a tired laugh.

“Can you tell that to my aunt when you meet her? Because she’s convinced I’m a delinquent since I stopped wearing a belt.”

“I’ll tell her.” You laughed and laid down on your bed. Peter laid beside you and rested his head on your heart. You immediately tangled your hands on his hair and played with it the way he liked.

“She’ll like you. I know she will. I gotta get my two girls together one day.” Peter said in a soft voice.

“I hope she likes me. You were primarily raised by her, right?”

“For the last few years, yeah. She’s the best.”

“I bet she it.” You replied. “It would explain why you turned out the way you did.”

“What do you mean?”’ Peter chuckled and looked up at you.

“I mean you’re so sensitive and caring of others around you. I mean, look at us. You met me on your first day here and decided to tutor me just because you saw a stranger was struggling. And I see the way you take care of Ned. Remember that night he was homesick so you made us all watch that weird movie with the sexy horse from when you guys were kids?”

“Hey, Spirit is not a weird movie.” Peter playfully defended. “It’s an underrated classic with a phenomenal soundtrack.”

“Okay, whatever you say.” You chuckled. “All I’m saying is, she raised you right. In a world of boys, you’re a gentleman.”

“I try to be. You deserve a gentleman.” He said and picked his head up to stare at you. You smiled softly and brushed his hair off his forehead before taking his chin and brining his face closer to kiss him.

“Thanks for being gentle with me.” You whispered.

Peter returned the smiled and kissed you again before resting his head back down on your chest. You played with his hair until he fell asleep and then turned off the lights.

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx @trumanbluee

@classygladiatortidalwave @miwagila @sarcasm-and-stiles @hitoshislut @misspascalpunk

@buckylovinglokivariant @betzabobababi

@eterjas @pleasingregulus @avatarjuno @dreamingofts18 @diorrgrl @anarchistsons

@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @erule @justsomebodyweird @un06 @tom-hollands-wifey

@bellajg21 @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer

@ferrjulie @kitykatnumber @angelayse @cleosertoriooc @iamdedsthingz

@girls-and-guts @tomshufflepuff @lovely-blackinnon @matchafrappeidm

@xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kneelforloki @xorderedkaosx @dory-98 @okayiamkassandra

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker college au #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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didishawn · 2 years ago

Text

Make sure he hears you are taken (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: jealous Pedri, basically he answers your phone to make sure a guy getting too close to you hears how well he fucks you, smut, exhibitionism of some kind I guess, lots of Spanish

Masterlist

The whole trouble starts with Pedri on his car driving Gavi home after training.

He has been quite busy lately, not having enough attention for you lately so he feels as if he has to make it up to you, taking chance of tomorrow's free day to dine you out then fuck you well into the morning hours.

"Oye, coge mi móvil y llama a y/n, porfa, que quiero confirmar para hoy a la noche" he tells Gavi, the younger boy nodding, unlocking his friend's phone - your birthday the password, and pressing call on your contact, a picture of the two of you, rolling his eyes at how obsessively in love Pedri is. (hey, take my phone and call y/n, please, that I want to check for tonight)

The phone rings twice before your voice sounds on the other side, putting an instant smile on Pedri's face.

"Hola, amor, ¿como estás?" you greet him. (hey love, how are you?)

"Bien bien, solo quería confirmar si todo sigue en pie para hoy a la noche" you hum in agreement, and he grins widely. (good, good, just wanted to check if everything is still good for tonight)

Then he hears it, male voice in the background, your voice responding to whoever it was, Gavi's eyes widen, wanting to know what is about to come down.

"¿Con quien estás, amor?" (who are you with, love?)

You voice is lowered as you speak next "Un pesado de la uni, diciéndome algo de que quería quedar conmigo esta noche" (some loser from college, telling me something about wanting to hang out with me tonight)

Gavi's mouth is wide open as he side eyes his friend.

"¿Es tonto o que?" (is he stupid or what?)

You hum again at your boyfriend's question "Es muy pesado. Pero mejor lo hablamos luego, que no me quiero ni imaginar la cara de Gavi escuchando el chisme" (he is so annoying. But we better talk later I can't even imagine Gavi's face listening to the gossip)

The younger boy scoffs "¡No estoy chismoseando!" (I am not gossiping!)

"Ajá, si claro, haré que me lo creo. Bueno amor, nos vemos luego, te amo" Pedri says it back and indicates Gavi to hang up. (aha, yeah right, I will do as if I believe that. Well love, see you later, love you)

Pedri's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel.

"Tú sabes que ella ni siquiera mira hacia otro hombre" (you know she doesn't even look another man's way)

"Claro que lo se, pero no sé de qué va ese puto payaso, no es que nuestra relación sea secreta ni nada, todo el mundo sabe que estamos juntos" (of course I know that, what I don't know is what that fucking clown is about, it's not like our relationship is a secret, everyone knows we are together)

"No le des muchas vueltas, tú piensa que simplemente es un gilipollas que ya se cansará" (don't think too much about it, just think that he simply is an asshole that will eventually get tired)

But not even Gavi's unusually rational words can keep Pedri's mind away from whoever that fucking asshole is.

Pedri doesn't let his fleeting thoughts ruin your night together, though, even if his mind is full of jealousy.

You know he is jealous, he might be one of the best footballers out there, but acting is not a talent of his.

His fans go wild at how many stories and pictures he has posted tonight, some of them simply showing you off, one of the two of you kissing, another of the fancy restaurant he has taken you to, all photos accompanied by romantic quotes that almost has your eyes full of tears because of how happy they make you.

You know lay on your comfortable couch, a bottle of wine shared between you as you cuddle into his chest, him placing kisses on your head, both of you just happy with each other's company. He looks down at you with so much love in his eyes, a dumb smile on his face as you ramble about your day, your eyes as full of love as his.

Then your phone dings.

You both ignore it, but the sound repeats, once, twice, thrice.

You sigh, picking up the phone, a frown on your face as you see who the messages' sender is.

"¿Pasa algo?" your boyfriend asks you, his face full of concern. (is something wrong?)

You puff and show him the screen, the name of a boy on the notifications, asking you about what you are doing, telling you you would have had so much more fun with him than with 'that football player you are dating', there is a image attached to that Pedri can only guess is a dick pic, another message telling you all about how hot you are - as if you even needed a reminder of that, and how horny you make him.

"Supongo este es el gilipollas, ¿no?" you nod, he scoffs "Maldito cabron de mierda, ¿de que puto va? Asqueroso" (I suppose this is the idiot, right? Fucking, shitty asshole, what the fuck is he going about? Disgusting)

He drops the phone on the couch, his face hidden behind his hands, you approach him, you head in his neck "Lo siento" (you apologise)

He shakes his head "¿De que te disculpas? No es tu culpa sea un baboso" (what are you apologising for? It's not your fault he is a slob)

"Debería haberte dicho antes que no me dejaba en paz" (I should have told you before that he doesn't stop bothering me)

"No es tu culpa, se que he estado ocupado últimamente" (it's not you fault, I know I have been busy lately)

"No es excusa" you say, then lean forward placing a kiss on his neck "Déjame pagártelo" (it's no excuse. Let me make it up to you)

A handsome smile takes over his face, your mouths meeting in a passionate kiss, he cups your face, the kiss leaving you breathless.

He separates, his kisses going lower and sucking your neck, leaving a mark behind, his hands go lower too, gripping the hem of your dress, pushing it up.

"Venga bonita, dejame quitarte este vestido, dejame verte entera" (come on pretty one, let me take this dress off you, yet me see all of you)

You are left only in your panties, having chosen to not wear a bra tonight, his mouth salivating at the sight of you breasts, the cold air gardening your nipples. He leans forward, making you completely lay down as he showers over you, he kisses both breasts, his hips are grinding into yours, he already has you moaning, your hands buried in his hair, pulling on its strands, making it messy.

You are pulling on his shirt, wanting to see more of him, he kisses your check and takes it off, letting you see his strong upper part, your eyes stuck on the signs of the happy trail leading to the bulge his pants struggle to contain. You mouth attaches to his neck, he now lays on the couch, gazing up at you, getting comfortable as you lips go lower, hands unbuckling his belt, you push his pants down, the same with his underwear, his cock bouncing against his stomach, red tip, the veins looking about to explode, there is precum coming out and his balls look heavy.

"¿No vas a chuparla?" he teasingly asks, you roll your eyes. (are you not going to suck it?)

"Todo un caballero. Ni un por favor ni nada" (such a gentleman. Not even a please)

"Por favor, mi diosa a la que amo más que nada en el mundo, chupame la polla. ¿Así mejor?" (please, my goddess who I love more than anything in this world, suck my dick. Is that better?)

You hum, mouth wide open as you struggle to take him down your throat, your hand stimulating what you can't fit, his head goes back, his hands on your hair as you go up and down.

"Joder, pareces un experta y todo" (shit, you feel like an expert and all)

You let go, hand still working up and down "Mi novio me ha ayudado a practicar" (my boyfriend has helped me practice)

"Joder" he moans, hoarse voice high pitched "Suena a que es muy suertudo" (fuck. He sounds like a lucky man)

You kiss his tip, his heart is about to explode at how cute you look "Yo soy la suertuda" (I am the lucky one)

"Debatible" (debatable)

His hands pull on your hair, making you drop his cock as he once more pushes you to lay on the couch, he hovers over you, lips meeting yours as one hand grasps your cheek, the other reaches down to pull off your panties. Once they are gone, that same hand pushes your legs open, a finger starts teasing your clit, all of this without letting go of your lips.

"Dios, como te quiero" he says as you need a breather, he is looking at you as if you had hung the stars on the sky, in his mind you probably have. (god, I love you so much)

There are only inches in between you as he pushes a finger into you, fucking you with it slowly, you basically moaning into his mouth.

"Tan apretada y solo llevo un dedo. ¿Como se va a sentir cuando sea mi polla la que esté dentro?" (so tight and it's only one finger. How will it feel when it's my cock inside?)

You can't respond, now concentrated on the feeling of two fingers inside of you and another rubbing circles on your clit. Breaking eye contact is not a possibility, his eyes call yours, you can only see him, only the two of you left in a world that could be burning down for all you cared, his lips may be kissing your breasts, but his eyes stay on yours.

That is, until the loud ring of your phone, making you groan as you reach to toss it away. Pedri is faster and picks it up, disgust taking over his expression as he sees who the caller is.

"De verdad, que no se puede ser más subnormal" he is about to hung up, when an idea strucks his mind "¿Qué te parece si le dejamos escuchar lo bien que te follo, amor? Así se le queda bien claro que tú solamente eres mía" (seriously, you can't be more stupid. How about we let him hear how well I fuck you, love? So he can understand that you are only mine)

You think it over for a second, then slowly nod making him grin widely before planting along kiss on your lips and picking up the call, placing the phone right next to your head.

You are sure the guy is talking, but you can't really understand what he is saying - something about it you are there, Pedri is on his knees in between your legs, face on your center as he licks a long stripe up, lips wrapping around your clit, you let out a loud moan that they guy on the other side of the phone surely didn't miss.

Pedri is devouring you as if you were his last meal, there fingers now inside of you pumping in and out restlessly, his mouth doesn't leave your clit until he feels you about to cum by the high pitch on your whines and moans. He lets go, leaving you just about to reach the extasis that you long so much for.

He picks you up and turns you around, on all fours you feel him on your entrance, his tip teasing you.

"Recuerda dejarle bien claro que solo hay una persona que te puede tener así" (remember to make it clear there is only one person that can have you like this)

"Pedri!" you whine when he sticks only his tip inside of you, you are breathless, a whining mess as you hide your face in the pillow your boyfriend made sure to be avaible so you aren't as uncomfy.

"Dios, estas ya así cuando ni siquiera he hecho nada todavía. ¿Como vas a aguantar cuando te esté follando como te mereces?" (god, you are like this without me doing anything still. How will you manage when I fuck you like you deserve?)

His tip does playful taps against you, until finally he is entirely in you in one harsh thrust, a loud moan escaping your mouth and into the phone's microphone.

"¿Eso se sintió bien, amor?" you desperately nod and he laughs. (did that feel good, love?)

The pace of his hips is hard and fast, unforgiving, the noise of skin against skin is loud, not as much as you moans and whines, his groans are lower, hoarser. He leans down, biting into your neck, his strong chest against your back as he desperately ruts into you, heavy balls hitting you, his heat enveloping you.

"Deja que escuche lo bien que te follo, déjale claro de quién eres" (let him hear how well I fuck you, make it clear who you belong to)

"Pedri!" you whine, you are close, about to come as you tighten even more around him, trapping him inside you, your sound get hight pitched, so do his groans.

His hips stutter a bit, his pace faltering as he reaches down to you phone, speaking into it "Payaso, ¿te pensabas te iba a dar el placer de escuchar lo linda que se escucha al correr se para mi? Vete a la mierda, déjala en paz" (clown, did you really think I would let you the pleasure of hearing how pretty she sound when she comes for me? Go to hell, leave her alone)

He hangs up and tosses the phone aside, fully concentrating on you and how good you feel, picking you up and setting you on his lap, moving you up and down, thrusting, harshly into you, one hand playing with your clit, his lips attached to your neck.

"Venga bonita, vente para mi, necesito sentirte a mi alrededor" (come on pretty one, cum for me, I need to feel you around me)

You can't really think straight but nod desperately, cumming at once when you feel his tip kissing your cervix, all his cum filling you up to the brim.

It's not enough, you both know that, and by the time you are done, his cum is seeping out from you and it's early morning hours.

Needless to say, the boy never dares to even look you to the eye again.

#pedri #pedri headcanon #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri smut #barca #fc barca #barcelona #spanish nt #spain national team #spain nt #football imagine #football player #football

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years ago

Text

football royalty / pedri

request: pedri x messi daughter ig au i am on my knees

author's note: in this messi is still playing (or came back 👀) to barcelona, but at the same time he's kinda aged up to have a kid pedri's age (??? what i'm trying to say is the math doesn't work this is clearly fiction ajajajjs

summary: you've never said you and pedri were dating, but there are some rumours around. maybe appearing together at the ballon d'or red carpet will help clear the air. or cause a massive internet breakdown, given that you're messi's daughter and he's the golden boy.

name.messi

Liked by pedri, leomessi and others.

name.messi siempre bancando a papá 💌 antonelarocuzzo (always supporting dad 💌 antonelarocuzzo)

View all comments.

leomessi mis reinas 🤍 (my queens 🤍)

❤️ liked by name.messi

user1 imagine having messi as your DAD

user2 decile a tu papá que venga a river (tell your dad to come to river)

user3 am i crazy or did pedri point to her when he scored?

name.messi added to their story.

name.messi

Liked by pedri, pablogavi and others.

name.messi desliza para una sorpresa 🍌 (swipe for a surprise 🍌)

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pablogavi mono 🐒 (monkey 🐒)

pedri eres tú 😂 (you are 😂)

user1 me encanta ver que es amiga de los chicos 🥹 (love to see that she's friends with the guys 🥹)

name.messi added to their story.

name.messi

Liked by pedri, antonelarocuzzo and others.

name.messi todos los días acá 🏟️ (every day here 🏟️)

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pedri bueno ver que te gustó la camiseta 😍 (glad to see you liked the jersey 😍)

❤️ liked by name.messi

user1 pedri braver than the marines for flirting with messi's daughter like this 😂

antonelarocuzzo hermosaaaa ❤️ (beautiful ❤️)

name.messi

Liked by pedri, leomessi and others.

name.messi argentina un ratito 🇦🇷 (argentina for a bit 🇦🇷)

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pedri vuelve que te extraño 😕 (come back i miss you 😕)

name.messi no sabía que eras de extrañar 🤨 (didn't know you were the type to miss someone 🤨)

user1 PEDRI STOP FLIRTING WITH THE GOAT'S DAUGHTER AJSJSJJS

pablogavi yo también te extraño :( (i miss you too :( )

name.messi y yo a vos 🤍 nos vemos pronto pablitooo (me too 🤍 we'll see each other soon pablito)

leomessi 🇦🇷🤍

name.messi

Liked by leomessi, pedri and others.

name.messi de gala con mi pepi 💌 (elegant with my pepi 💌)

View all comments.

pedri hermosa ❤️ (beautiful ❤️)

name.messi mí niño de oro 🥹 (my golden boy 🥹)

leomessi 🥰🥰🥰🥰

name.messi added to their story.

#football imagine #football instagram au #football social media au #pedri x you #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri x y/n #football x you #football x reader

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whiteboi-inferiority · 2 months ago

Note

Hello sir, as always I would like to tell you again that I admire you and I bow to your superiority.

I would like to ask you a question and I am asking it here in case you think you can solve the doubt of more people.

Sir, you know that I cannot cum without the permission of a black master or the permission of a girl, that is why I recently made a post pathetically begging everyone.

Bueno, una chica trans ha respondido a mi publicación preguntándome si podía darme permiso y sinceramente no creo que deba responder a esa pregunta.

Although I am not gay, I respect your opinion very much sir and that is why I would like to ask you for an answer that I will completely obey.

Not gay huh? Uhoh.

Last time you asked me you were told to jerk off to pictures of black cocks. No girls in view, just cocks. Maybe you did, maybe you didn't, I don't know. But I can fix that.

This time, you'll contact @submissivegayfrenchboy2

You're going to make him cum. Whatever it takes. You might not be gay, but he is very gay.

If -when- I see screenshot evidence of your chat making him cum, then you'll have my permission to tickle your nub or whatever it is you do.

If the task is distasteful to you, I suggest you finish him off quickly.

'Fifi' likes to risk getting beaten up by taking pictures of random black guys he sees on the street or on the subway that he's attracted to. He gets excited thinking about eyefucking and flirting with them, and tonguing their (and my) asshole. Also fantasizes about being kept on a leash like a dog when being used as a cock sleeve by a black master. Perhaps after your recent embarrasment acting like a bitch in front of princess @karlie-xox you could start there.

Those are the terms. Take them or leave them. If you leave them, that's fine, but don't ask me again.

#whiteboi inferiority asks #whiteboi inferiority tasks #bnwo beta #forced faggot #gay for play #faggot humiliation #pathetic loser

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cher-rei · 11 months ago

Text

pablo gavi smau [ P.G ]

summary: a documentation of your life as the messi family's adoptive daughter leading up to a surprise relationship reveal

masterlist

notes: posting this like this isn't based on my gavi fic that's in planning... the oc's name is sofía btw (translated spanish!!)

fía.pérez

liked by pablogavi and 2 234 563 others

fía.pérez la vida en este momento con mi chica favorita 💌 (life at the moment with my favourite girl) [tagged: aurorapaezg]

see all comments below

aurorapaezg 😘 [liked by fía.pérez]

pablogavi dejar a mi hermana en paz desafío: ir (leave my sister alone challenge: go)

→ fía.pérez deja de ser celoso desafío: ve (stop being jealous challenge: go)

user guys I just saw two pretty best friends...

user when are gavi and sofía not arguing though, like can we be fr 😭

user they make it so easy to ship them and I'm so here for it

user it's over once when see antonela or messi in the comments 😔

fía.pérez

liked by anotenelarocuzzo and 1 172 111 others

fía.pérez ciro + fía = <3

see all comments below

antonelarocuzzo mis bebés ❤️‍🩹 (my babies) [liked by fía.paréz)

leomessi mateo dijo que está mejor 😭 (mateo said that he's better)

→ fía.pérez en sus sueños 🙄 (in his dreams)

pablogavi ¿Y por qué no me invitaron??? (and why wasn't I invited???)

→ fía.pérez bueno, tal vez si hubieras respondido a mi llamada habrías (well maybe if you answered my calls you would've)

pedri los amantes se pelean (lovers quarrel)

→ fía.pérez sal de mis comentarios ahora mismo... (get out of my comments right now)

pablogavi @pedri me das asco. (you disgust me.)

pablogavi

liked by pedri and 897 382 others

pablogavi exponiendo mi angel 🤭 (exposing my angel) [tagged: fía.pérez]

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fía.pérez estás muerto gavira. (you're dead gavira) [liked by pablogavi]

pedri ¿¿subtítulo?? (caption??)

ferrantorres ¿¿tu que?? (your what??)

user excuse me 😃

user HELP?? SOFT LAUNCH??

fía.pérez

liked by leomessi and 1 223 311 others

fía.pérez él realmente está aquí firmando las camisetas de todos mientras yo estoy allí 😒 (he's really out there signing everyone's shirt while I'm right there) [tagged: pablogavi]

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pablogavi puedes tener el mío en su lugar 😉 (you can have mine instead)

→ fía.pérez preferiría morir ☺️ (i'd rather die)

pedri los odio tanto a ambos (I hate you both so much) [liked by fía.pérez]

user I don't even know if I'm delusional anymore

→ user girl I'm just here for the vibes, they're too cute to leave

fía.pérez

liked by pablogavi and 1 722 111 others

fía.pérez el chico en la pantalla es algo lindo 👀 (the guy on the screen is kind of cute)

see all comments below

aurorapaezg estás bromeando ¿no? (you're joking right?) [liked by fía.pérez]

pablogavi conozco a alguien que es al menos diez veces más lindo (I know someone who's at least ten times cuter)

→ fía.pérez ¿ah, de verdad? (oh really?) [liked by pablogavi]

ferminlopez @pedri hermano, ven aquí (bro get over here)

user we're getting closer!!!

user am I supposed to be screaming or crying rn??

pablogavi

liked by fía.pérez and 891 199 499 others

pablogavi mi vista favorita 👀❤️‍🩹 (my favourite view) [tagged: fía.pérez]

see all comments below

fía.pérez he visto mejores de cerca (I've seen better upclose)

→ pablogavi imposible mi amor (impossible, my love)

pedri ¿puedo finalmente dormir en paz ahora? (can I finally sleep in peace now?)

→ pablogavi nunca (never)

ferminlopez ¡¡vamos!! (let's gooo!!) [liked by pablogavi)

user screaming, crying, throwing up

user YESSSS!! I'M CONVULSING

fía.pérez

liked by leomessi and 2 321 112 others

fía.pérez mi niño bonito ❤️ (my pretty boy) [tagged: pablogavi)

see all comments below

pablogavi ¡¡no es justo!! no puedes llamarme tu chico bonito tan casualmente (that's not fair!! you can't call me your pretty boy so casually)

→ fía.pérez por supuesto que puedo (of course I can)

antonelarocuzzo te tomo bastante tiempo (took you long enough)

→ fía.pérez fue un proceso ¿vale? 😭 (it was a process okay?)

pedri yo todavía te odio (I still hate you)

→ pablogavi nada nuevo (nothing new)

user is this what heaven feels like?

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #fanfic #footballer x you #fc barca #fc barcelona imagine #fc barcelona #fc barcelona x reader #pablo gavi fluff #cherrei writes

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allthedamnlove · 1 month ago

Text

The One where Sofia tells Rafe that they are having a baby

Heyy loves, I am supposed to be writing my actual story and working on my master thesis, but I can't shake this idea about how Rafe would feel if Sofia was pregnant. So here she is, my first full-fledged one-shot. I hope you guys like it considering that this is just a word vomit.

I'll upload it in Wattpad and Ao3 as soon as possible.

Enjoy. There's just a smidge of angst if you look very closely, but it's 99.9% pure fluff.

Taglist: @popou61 @araybiaaa

The moment that I knew that I was pregnant was actually on a random Thursday afternoon during work.

My work as an English and Spanish teacher to primary kids and middle school students meant that my entire day is filled with chortles of “Yes Mam!” “No Mam” and “Thank you mam!” or “buenos días señora!” and “gracias señora!” I am surrounded by tender lives whose limbs, brains and hearts are ever growing with curiosity and unfettered affection for the world itself. And as a teacher, it is my job to make sure that they don't lose their light in their lives. So I love children, I grew up with two younger siblings who were kids when I was toeing into my twenties and so naturally I understand what it is like to raise a kid and take care of them. When I graduated from college with my English Masters, I was confuddled about what to do with my degree and scared that my career won’t be satisfying and I’ll end up slaving away in a job that will slowly kill my love and passion for literature. Then weirdly enough, I was helping my niece, Valerie Routledge about English grammar when she stayed at Rafe’s and my place and safe to say, I was enamoured with the idea of teaching. I remember using her dollies and all the cute trinkets to make her comprehend articles and Rafe sitting beside me whispering, “Looks like you found your calling”

And here I am, spending everyday with kids and mostly loving it.

Like any job, it has its good days and bad days. Most of the times, it's both; no matter how cute, innocent and fragile kids maybe, at one point you get exhausted from all the running around, changing your tone to being overly sweet and helping student’s clean their uniforms if they spill orange juice.

But at the end of the day, I am witnessing actual human lives grow, explore and expand their tiny universes and I am proud and in awe that I play a big part in that process.

So, yea I had a hunch when I knew I was pregnant.

I was perched on the wooden bench on the staff lounge, munching on my Italian pesto sandwich and chilli flavored potato chips (It was Rafe’s turn to cook and he makes a mean Pesto chicken sandwich) as I read the note that he sent along with my lunch box.

“I love you and I hope you have a great day. Hoping that I see you soon so that I can tell you all about my day and I hope you feel that way too.

I know my sandwich is bomb but still tell me how it was

Yours, Rafael”

At the end of the note, he signed his name along with cute hearts drawn around the corner.

Fuck I was going to cry. And weirdly, I had been crying a lot.

My unreasonable crying session got abruptly cut by my co-worker Andy whose bi-sexual pin shone in the sunlight; his maroon cardigan swung as he moved swiftly. He dropped onto the wooden bench beside me with his lunch on his hands.

“Hey, how was the midterm, Sofia. Did you see teardrops on the answer sheet or only smiley faces?”

“Haha, Andy. They were all fine. I made sure the questions were relatively easy.”

Rolling his eyes, he caught note of Rafe’s handwritten letter, cooing

“Awww, you guys are so cute!!! I don’t know who is lucky in this marriage, you or the blue-eyed beast you get to call your husband?”

My cheeks bloomed into a rosy hue as I fumbled and fumferred to give an answer, I don’t know why, Rafe and I have been married for two years and dating since I was twenty-one.

I am twenty-eight now.

I still blush when I think about us. I guess true love never really loses its charm even after seven years. After all, he is my first love, my first everything, I guess.

But again, I was at work and I was not comfortable enough to give a coherent answer. We are at a point in our relationship where we have seen each other morph into the best, loving version of each other. Rafe watched me turn into a more confident, more vivacious soul while I saw Rafe grow into a man that knows what he wants, holds mountains under his shoulders yet loves with so much devotion that is immeasurable. We both deserve each other in that way, I guess.

Instead, I said, “I don’t know Ands. What about you, Mr Biology Teacher?”

I forgot to tell you; Andy is a biology teacher for middle school / high school students at Outer Banks Public School. While I am a more fairly new addition to the institution, Andy has been working here for nearly six years while I started this job just after I got married two years ago. He also conducts special sessions for Sex-Ed too so there’s always an embarrassing story tucked under that hideous olive-green belt.

“Oh, the usual, taught a bunch of high schoolers about periods and that whole nasty business of it.”

Huh. Periods. When did I last got mine.

Wait….wait….what….

My eyes must have looked like it was going to pop out since Andy waved his hands in front of me asking, “Are you here, Mrs. Sofia”

“Huh…what”

“You were out of it for a minute, you, okay?”

Yes and no, I may be carrying a baby right now.

“Uh…yea I am fine, just tired I guess”

This is true, I have been actually restless the past three weeks. Tossing and turning in bed at night but felt like I needed to hibernate for the rest of the morning.

“Oh ok, let me know if you need any help demolishing that chocolate chip cookie” he laughed pointing at my lunch bag.

I was not interested in that conversation at all, no matter how much I respect Andy. My mind was running miles away from this earthly plane.

As he sauntered out of the hall, I grabbed my phone, scrolling furiously to click the Calendar app. I always noted the days when I was suffering from periods and to my luck or the lack of it, I was nearly a month late.

My hands trembled due to an undiscerning emotion; I didn’t know what to feel. Happiness and a sense of unflinching rush of love surged through me. I may have a mini-Rafe or mini me.

At the same time, I remembered this news meant Rafe’s worst fears coming to life.

He never said he didn’t want kids. Contrary to my prior statement, he always was down with us having kids even when we were dating, whispering in my ear that he wants to see me with his baby in my belly as we unravelled each other in the bed.

His past never graced him with the one thing a child actually needed: his parents love. His mom leaving the world early in a “car-crash” (Rafe still doesn’t believe it, calling it as BS) while his dad holding his roots on him but never actually nourishing him with affection. Ward Cameron used Rafe for his misgiving yet making him beg for his love like the Schrodinger’s cat. I don’t speak ill of the dead but I was kinda content with the fact that Rafe got mature enough to see through his dad’s shiny vacant words of sweet-nothings to discern that Rafe was always a means to his vile ends.

Rafe used to kiss the ground his dad walked on, I still remember holding him by his arms as he scattered his dad’s ashes in the sea, mumbling “I won’t forget you” It was way early in our relationship yet I knew that I would do anything to not to see the cerulean eyed boy cry.

As years rolled by and Rafe started to go to therapy, he confessed to me that he doesn’t know how to parse through the irony that even though Ward might have a sliver of love for him, he exploited his need for affection like it meant nothing. His hands were holding my waist as we laid in bed, his head finding a permanent safe purchase in my neck as his voice trembled;

“I’m scared, Sof”

My hands were caressing his buzzcut, holding him like a vice.

“Of what, Rafe?”

He paused for a moment, planting a small yet earth shattering kiss on my nape.

“That if we have a baby, they’ll forever be cursed by having a psycho as their dad like their grandpa was”

His words hit me like lightning but I further tightened my hold, pulling out his head from his haven to face me; earning a quiet whine from him.

“You listen to me, Rafe. You won’t going to be a bad dad, mi amor”

He opened his mouth to give me a rebuttal so I just shushed him.

“No, Rafe. I know that when you love someone, you sacrifice a piece of your heart. You give it all, Rafe. Just like you gave me yours. And I know for sure that if we have kids, they will be so happy that their dad loves them like no one else”

His blue eyes were clouded by a shroud of tears, threatening to bubble over as he spoke, “But what if I fuck up, baby? What if I am not…”

“No, don’t even think about it, Rafe. I know they’ll be so loved. Beside I will be here. With you. I would also be scared too, and I know you will hold my hand when I am feeling not my best. So don’t let your demons push you away from experiencing love, baby”

His tears were pouring out now. His limbs surrounding my body, afraid to let go.

“I love you” he said in his wispy, unwavering voice, “I love you more than anything and even if I don’t know if Ill be a good father but I know I won’t stop trying since I will love not only a piece of me but also you.”

Then it was my turn to cry, plucking butterfly kisses on his lips as we dreamed of washing away our parents mistakes and rewriting new ones.

That was four years ago. He still tenses at the mention of kids even though he is the “coolest uncle” (as quoted by Valerie) to our niece and the best brother-in-law to Theo and Isabella. He goes all in whenever Val or my siblings crashes at our place for a sleepover; buying all the snacks they ask and taking them on ice cream dates on the beach whenever Isabella, my sister comes to our home. Isabella is a soft spot for Rafe; obviously Valerie is his niece and loves her endlessly but Val has two more uncles and aunts who crowd her entire time and affections and considering Rafe and Sarah’s rocky yet amicable relationship; Val doesn’t exactly come see us very often. I know Rafe may seem nonchalant about it but I know that he hopes that he can fully repair their relationship. I hope so too. Isabella, however, loves Rafe to the ends of the Earth, she met Rafe when she was four and she was completely taken aback by my then-boyfriend turned now-husband. And he too didn’t hold back with the sweets or the bear hugs or the gifts since he wanted to impress my family and also, he saw Wheezie, his other sister in my Isabella. Though she is eleven, she still comes home to have sleepovers with me and sometimes brings her friends to our home to watch new releases.

And Rafe still calls her Button.

My husband should sometimes look in the mirror and contemplate all the bad things he says about himself.

Speaking of the devil, my phone lit with a small ping

I can hear his voice in the text as I read it, “Hey bb, u want me to pick u up after 2 hrs”

My fingers were shaking as I typed, “Yup :)”

For the next two hours, I was on autopilot; my mouth spewing out words on its accord as my brain was sinking in to the fact that I may be a mom in a year.

Or maybe not. Maybe its just a false alarm and I can just go about my day as usual.

But why did a miniscule part of my heart hoped to see if there’ll be two lines on the pregnancy test.

Whenever I saw Rafe treating his niece and my siblings like they were royalty, my heart always leapt, thinking about how our baby would be loved and adored by us. I thought about a little boy with wisps of mousy blonde hair running around with blue eyes like his daddy, laughing and barrelling towards me for a hug or a sweet little girl with jet black hair being carried around by her dada on his shoulders.

Rafe’s and my heart had been entwined with each other for nearly eight years and I cherish every single moment I get to spend with him. And the fact that we both are able to create our destiny and legacy makes me feel light hearted.

As the clock ticked to 3’o clock on the huge, wooden clock on the hallway, a stampede of students rushed from their classes, elated to leave their “hell-on-Earth” schools. As a teacher, I was standing at the entrance of the main building, helping kids around and waving them goodbyes.

And like clockwork my husband pulled up in his black SUV with Ray Bans covering his eyes, a Black Depache Mode T-shirt adorning his broad shoulders; the car thrumming as it pulled up on the tarmac. He got out of the car, his middle finger playing with the keychain, sauntering like he owned the place.

Why does my breath always stop like I am seeing him for the first time?

“Hey baby, what you doing?” he said cooly, his hands finding home in my waist. He has no chill.

“Doing my job and you are disturbing it”

He stepped back, feigning offence, “Excuse me, Mrs Cameron, I thought you wanted me to come pick you up”

I too played along, crossing my arms on my chest, “Well Mr Cameron, I did call you but I need a minute to pack and there are still kids around here so keep it PG, yea?”

“Yes mam.”

So here I was, riding along like the passenger princess I am, observing my husband deftly drive around the neighbourhood as his other hand softly caressed my thighs. Touch is very important to him, I discovered from our relationship. It grounds him and I am more than happy to be his anchor.

“So how was work, any kid threw up on you?”

I was zoning out again, staring into his eyes and contemplating if I should tell that I may be pregnant.

“Sof, you good?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of worry.

“Yeah, I am just tired” I repeated the same answer verbatim to my husband.

I need to be sure that I am pregnant. I can’t give him false promises or false alarms.

“Oh, its ok love, I’ll cook dinner tonight. Or we’ll order up, you wanted to hit up that new Thai spot right? yea maybe we’ll order in, catch up on some TV and have a nice shower, hmm maybe that will make your headache go away?”

I was seconds close to throwing myself onto him and holding him in the middle of the road. This is what I meant when I say nobody knows Rafe Cameron better than me. He holds me to the highest degree and every second he never fails to amaze me at how good he is as a husband.

All I could do was hold my tears at bay and palm his face, fingers bookmarking every freckle of his sculpted face.

“Yea, that would be great, Rafe”

As the orange hues of the evening sky eroded into the inky midnight, I laid awake behind Rafe’s sinewed chest, his hands on my belly, where our future child may be resting. As usual, his face was buried in the nape of my neck, soft breaths trying to lull me to sleep. But I couldn’t close my eyes.

I cannot just buy a pregnancy test from a pharmacy; I mean I could but I need to be sure.

All I could think about was how would Rafe digest the news if I was really pregnant. Will he spin me around in joy or will he rub his temples and pace around in fear. I was hoping and praying the former but I know that anything can happen.

The next day, I had a game plan. As Rafe was busy getting ready for work, I typed out a quick message to the substitute teacher, Ms. Fields that I would be coming late to work today and to take care of first period and second period for me. He was strutting around in his dark blue suit, red tie with gold stripes on his hands, rushing towards me for help. As usual. As my fingers went around the collar to loop the tie, I peered upto him since hes nearly a feet taller than me and as much I love it, sometimes I feel as though I am a dwarf compared to him. My voice came in whispers as if we were surrounded by a crowd when the entire mansion was occupied by only me and Rafe. And probably our future baby.

“Hey, I am taking my car today for work, ok”

His voice boomed across the hall, his forehead furrowing, “Why?” he pouted. Carpooling to work is our favourite part of the day where for half an hour we just blast some music and talk shit about our respective work lives or other people.

“Babes, I have some papers to grade and I may need the car to go to the supply store for Halloween decorations for the school"

He huffed whining “Fineeee….but I am not in favour of this”

“You are such a baby, Rafe!”

“What, I am sorry that I want to spend more time with my extremely hot wife.”

“Hmm, flattery won’t take you anywhere, Mr Cameron”

“Well, I say no, cause you take it up to your ass…”

“RAFE CAMERON YOU FILTHY…” I gawked as I hit him square on his chest

He grabbed me by my waist guffawing, “I’m joking, I’m joking…I’m joking”

After a hearty breakfast of eggs, toast and a bucket load of strawberries, Rafe and me parted ways, he is the CEO of Cameron Developments but he is not exactly following his dad’s footsteps to a T. When I got engaged, I laid out this base rule that If I am going to get married, he needs to stop zoning out “Pogue” areas and actually venture out of the area to find new developments. So now he is not only a developer in Outer Banks but one of the top property developers in North Carolina itself.

Harsh, I know but I am not letting Rafe be a mob-brained “Kook” like everyone in this town is. I don’t know where I exactly belong in the social hierarchy of Outer Banks. I was born Pogue but married the Kookiest of the Kooks yet me and Rafe try not to associate ourselves with that binary. That’s why we live a bit further from Kildare, I was tired of feeling suffocated by fake laughs and snake-like lives of the Kooks and Rafe was exhausted from his reputation as a “psycho” so Rafe built us a home away from those conniving wolves and bit near to the Cut but still on the suburban area. Its just a couple of old people as neighbours who are actually very kind towards Rafe and me except the occasional, “Honey, the house sounds very lonely, you guys should have kids!”

Well, Martha’s dream is about to come true I guess.

*****

Prince’s missionary hospital with all of its ten storied glory was relatively free today. The hallways which are usually crowded with patients ambling slowly with catheters and gurneys rolling screeching on the sanitized floor was mostly vacant. But as I neared reception, I saw a familiar face come around the corner.

Pope.

And he sought me out before I decided if I was planning to acknowledge or avoid him.

“Hey, Sofia, what are you doing here, you ok?”

I forgot he was a doctor here. His badge which read, “Dr. Heyward” glistened under the sterile white lights of the room as she walked towards me, sporting a small smile.

Rafe and the Pogues’ relationship would forever be tainted due to history that Rafe doesn’t want to get into but most of the time, most of Sarah’s close friends are more than cordial with me. Val studies in my school and so Sarah and John B always make time to talk to me when they come pick up from class; I never actually had a proper interaction with JJ but the rest of them wave and ask about life if we encounter each other. And Pope and his fiancée Cleo has always been friendly towards me since I frequent the hospital for charity drives.

“Hey Pope, just here for a blood checkup” I fibbed since as much I like Pope; I really want Rafe to be the first person to know.

“Oh, is anything wrong?” he looked worried as he shrugged his white coat off.

“No, no. Everything’s great. I just wanted to see if my Hb levels are up to the mark, you know”

“I understand, well how’s umm….Rafe?” he fidgeted.

Rafe is a sour subject to all of the Pogues, and in a way I understand but it was nice that they still want to build an amicable relationship with me. I am even surprised that Sarah and Rafe’s relationship seems to be normal to say the least.

“Oh, he’s doing good as usual”

“How’s Cleo?” I actually talk to Cleo quite a lot since she’s also doing her online masters degree in UCLA so its nice to talk to her about academic stuff whenever I see her around.

“Oh, she’s rocking college and life, of course she’s doing more than great” he spoke, a warm smile gracing his lips.

“Well, I’ll let you do your check up I guess. Holla if you need any help.” He offered as he started to walk the other direction towards the lift.

“Thank you, and say hi to Cleo for me”

“WILL DO” his voice boomed as he disappeared from my eyeline.

I let out a small WHEW as I speed walked to the gynaecologists’ room. A tall woman with a blonde bob opened the door, heels clicking as she led me inside.

“Hi, Mrs Sofia….?” she said as was checking the form

“Cameron”

“Oh, ok, I am Dr Maria Adams, so you want to take a blood test to check for pregnancy?”

“Yea, I wanted to be sure.”

“That’s actually a very good decision. Sometimes, pregnancy tests can provide false positive results so I totally get it. So, when did you get your last period?”

“Last month, on 28th”

“Hmm got it. Do you feel tired”

“A lot, more tired than I have ever been”

“Do you feel some sort of tenderness on your breasts”

“I….” my mind raced back to a week ago when Rafe was grabbing my chest as we had sex and I remember him whimpering, “God your tits feel so good”

I cleared my throat, hoping that my cheeks don’t show my lewd daydreaming, I whispered “Yea”

“Ok, just give me a minute, let me take a blood sample and also an urine sample to make sure that you are really pregnant.”

I nodded, my mind coming around to the fact that life felt very real at this moment and that it may change forever today.

God, I really wish Rafe was here with me, encasing my hands with his and leaning onto his shoulder as I always do whenever life feels too taxing to live.

She came back with a plastic cup, two plastic test tubes, a needle and an unknown contraption with a belt. Maria saw through my apprehension and smiled, “Oh this is nothing, its only here if I can’t find a vein. I know everything seems very daunting but this is very very normal for all women when they find out they may be pregnant. This is not going to hurt at all. You’ll be fine ok” she comforted me; eyes softening and her hands gently placing the syringe onto my hands.

As she slowly injected the syringe onto my veins, I looked around the hospital room, pink and blue coloured posters about pregnancy, gestational diabetes, cute baby pictures and the development of a baby was strewn all around the rooms with some posters enlisting emergency numbers. Along with the prick, I felt overwhelmed, feeling slightly dizzy.

Thankfully, she retracted the needle, collecting the crimson red substance in two test tubes as she asked me to pee on a cup in the bathroom inside. After an embarrassing five minutes of peeing in a cup and actually giving it to the doctor, I washed my hands and fidgeted around the metal bench, hoping to get the results as soon as possible.

She came back with her writing pad on her hands saying, “so we’ll get the results by tonight or this evening so I’ll send the results to your phone. You okay with that?”

A whole day. Ugh. That’s why everyone uses the pregnancy tests from the drugstore. I don’t think I can hold out that long but for the sake of my sanity I just nodded and left, walking slowly towards my car.

With a storm brewing in my heart, I really didn’t want to go to work but I can’t just take a sick day when I may need those for future days when I would be actually sick. Reluctantly I dragged myself to work.

Surprisingly the day zoomed by pretty fast, and it was four in the afternoon. I was rearranging the benches as the principal when I heard a loud squeal coming from the hallway. Just as I was going to turn around, I felt a tiny pair of hands encircling my waist followed by an adorable giggle and sound of small bells chiming.

I knew who it was.

“AUNTIE SOFIAAA”

As I turned around, I found myself face to face with Valerie Routledge, my niece-in-law. She was beaming with a tooth missing in her smile; bracelets with colourful charms adorning her wrists and her blonde hair like her mom, sporting butterfly clips. She twirled with glee showing her off leaf green pinoform dress. I kneeled to her height, grabbing her for a bear hug.

“Oh, my sweetness, how are you, mi amor!!! Had fun in class today?”

“OH, AUNT SOF, I HAD SOO MUCH FUN. I PAINTED A PICTURE OF A HOUSE WITH DAD, MOM AND THE BEACH, UH AND I PLAYED FOOTBALL WITH AMY AND NATHAN” she rushed in one breath to say all her adventures.

“That sounds so lovely, Val. Where are your parents, baby? Your classes must have gotten over an hour ago, if I am not wrong” I cajoled, pinching her button nose.

“We are here, Sof” I heard a booming voice calling me out. It was John B and Sarah standing in front of the classroom.

“Hey! Whats up? How’s the shop?” I went up to them, Valerie on my hips as she was swinging her hands in the air.

“Oh, you know its fishing season, so business is smooth. A little birdie here told me that you weren’t here in the morning so we just wanted to see how are you”

Shit. Shit.

“Oh I was just tired so I came late from home.” Dios Mio, the amount of lies I had to tell today…I truly am on a roll.

It was Friday so I asked them what their weekend plans was and conversation flowed smoothly from there. We were now sitting on the benches with Val keeping herself busy by passionately colouring her newest creation. I was interrupted by my phone ringing, knowing that it would probably be my husband, waiting impatiently in our home.

And when I unlocked my phone, it was Rafe who was calling.

“Hey Sof, its nearly five o’ clock, do you need me to come pick you up. Or you’re busy with work?”

“No, I’m here with your sister, John B and Val” as soon as I said it, Val squealed again and came running towards me screaming, “IS IT UNCLE RAFEY, I WANNA TALK TO HIM, PLEASE SOF!!!”

Not to pop her bubble, I gave my phone and Rafe recognized it immediately, cooing “Hey Valeria, you doing good?”

Though she doesn’t meet Rafe as much as she probably should, she loves her uncle endlessly. They do talk to each other on the phone once in every two weeks because she “loves all her uncles equally” She started going on a spiel about every minute detail of her day and Rafe was intently listening through the phone. As her voice went on and on for about five minutes, Sarah stopped her little rant by softly saying, “Baby we gotta go, your aunt seems tired. She also needs to go home and talk to uncle Rafey, doesn’t she?”

“It’s fine, Sarah” It is true, I am tired and my phone weighs a ton of bricks with my message from the hospital as I heard it ping ten minutes ago.

“Oh, ok. Lemme say bye to him”

As that took two minutes more, Val, Sarah and John B took off, giving me my phone with Rafe on the line.

“Hey, you sure that you don’t want me to come pick you up?”

“It’s fine, I’ll be there in ten”

My consciousness felt shaky, god I need to go home. As I cut the call, I immediately went to my Messages and saw the message from the hospital with a pdf file attached to it. My hands hastily clicked the document scrolling through the unnecessary details to see the verdict.

It wrote

Patient No: 549202

Name: Sofia Cameron

Status: Pregnant

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.

*******

“And you know I want to construct the school there but obviously the government says the land was actually written off for this rich guy who lives in…Tennesse…of all places…”

I was mindlessly nodding to everything my husband was saying as my hands went automatic mode in stirring the curry for dinner. He was perched on the counter near me, talking about his day while I was racking my brain and heart on how to let him know that we are going to have a baby.

I am going to have a baby. Me and Rafe are going to be parents.

I turned towards Rafe, who was looking godly as usual with his knitted blue shirt and sweatpants, his hands gesticulating as he spoke. Aquamarine eyes pouring all of its love onto me as he gently held me by the waist now. God, I don’t know what he’s going to say.

He clocked my wavering stance and looked at me again,

“Sof, are you sure that you’re ok? You’re pretty out of it today, baby.”

I don’t what to feel; elated or terrified. I feel like throwing up and my breasts really hurt.

Instead, I went with the classic, “Yup, just tired from work.”

“If you get really tired like this every day, I’ll take you to the doc, you know. See what’s bothering you?”

I did go to the doctor, well.

“We’ll wait for a week to see, Rafe”

“Ok then. But I am really worried, Sof” he said as he was kissing my neck hands slowly rocking my body along with his.

I switched off the stove, turning my body towards him, my hands finding its natural home on the back of his buzzcut. He was sporting a mullet three months ago but he got tired of grooming his hair in the summer and has again started shaving his hair into a buzzcut. Times like this, I feel like I am reliving my early twenties when I see his buzzcut, my heart naïve yet adamant of the fact that the man in front of me would hold my heart with his and never let go. And inspite of all of the trials our relationship we went through, we ended up gripping onto each other as the waves went harder and gladly, we experienced the light shining into our lives. Together.

And I know that we’ll be alright.

I stood on my tiptoes, plucking a kiss from his lips and as usual, my husband took it as a cue to bend down to my level; grabbed me by the flesh of my thighs and one kiss led to a constellation of stolen kisses on my face and whispers of love. He carried me across the room to the sofa like a feather, soft and careful. And the thought of facing the real life with very real confessions left my thinking for a little while, my heart overflowing with only adoration and devotion for the man laying and loving on top of my body.

As midnight struck again and the ink blue sky was holding all of the stars and letting planes fly by its stratosphere I was left to plan again for the second time, pondering about a cute plan to reveal my pregnancy to Rafe.

My husband was in between worlds, reality and dreams as I heard him grunt and softly whistle in his sleep. I turned around to see him, lashes fluttering on his eyelids; looking serene. I wonder whose eyes our baby will have? I badly hope its Rafe’s but I will love our bundle of joy no matter how they look or who they will be.

I gave a gentle kiss to his forehead, hoping that sleep will also hold its dreamy hands to make me fall asleep too.

****

I was underestimating how much cards there are in a single supermarket for a pregnancy reveal. And how much baby clothes one single store has.

My hands were on my hips as I was closely rifling through the gift aisle of a novelty shop. I wanted to buy a cute card to gift Rafe when I break the news to him along with a cute onesie. I know it’s a very anticlimactic and probably overused method of a pregnancy reveal but I am enthralled yet overwhelmed to tell him that we’re pregnant. I was also planning on baking cupcakes to celebrate or eat it in misery (depending upon Rafe’s reaction) but then my feet started killing me and I planned just to buy some cupcakes from the bakery and put icing on it myself.

Huh, pregnancy does cost a lot of money and time. But that’s just everything in life I guess.

Then my eyes wandered around other gifts where there were a lot of photo frames and stuff. That sparked an idea in me.

Bingo.

All I need to do is go to the hospital right now.

And of course, the bakery.

*****

One thing about Rafe Cameron is that he intently listens and follows to everything that I say. And I deeply love him for it.

And so when I told him that I wanted to go to the beach when he came back from work at three pm, he just said, “Lemme pack sunscreen and a blanket” I felt giddiness in my bones.

And so here we are, nearing the moment that will change our lives, for better or worse. I was admiring my husband as we walked to our special spot in the beach where we first kissed. We always come here once or twice a month, just to sit and be in awe of the waves crashing onto the shore, the wide blue ocean freezing time, washing away all our worries and pains atleast for some minute. I wanted to create a perfect moment when I told him I was pregnant but I realised that every place and moment that I spend with him is a perfect place and perfect time. The sun was kissing the horizon leaving space for purple skies and cotton candy tufts of clouds.

As we sat down, with me sitting between his legs and his chin perched on my head, I slowly opened my beach bag to give him the meticulously wrapped gift.

“Rafe?”

He was gazing at the ocean as he hummed a response, “Yeah”

I got out of his hold as I faced to look at him “I have something to tell you.”

Now all of his attention was on me.

“What happened, Sof?”

I slowly put the wrapped gift onto his hands. “Open it”

He looked skeptical yet so adorable, his rosy lips forming a smile, “Baby, its not my birthday today” as he started to unravel the gift deftly, taking off the tapes one by one; carefully noting that I took time to wrap it.

“Just….open it.”

“Yea, yea. You see I am doing it”

As he opened the gift box, his eyesight went first to the photo album, he shot a undecipherable look, quietly laughing, “You’re crazy, Sof”

He opened the album, and I went near him to gauge his reaction. A grin adorned his lips as he saw photos of me and him in recent times, on vacations, photos of when we were dating, moments frozen in time of us doing funny faces, silly laughs, and untarnished love. He was smiling wide when looking into our wedding photos, me being carried around by his arms and our bodies floating on the dancefloor.

“I love it, Sofia. I am going to probably frame these pics. Jesus, I forgot these existed.

“Go to the last page, Rafe” I was now holding my heart in my hands, my eyes close to tearing up.

He saw my emotional disposition and flipped onto the last pages. And there it was.

On the left side, there were two photos, baby photos of me and him, Rafe sporting an cheek-pinching aww-moment smile while I was pointing my fingers to my cousin brother. Then he saw the other side.

There was a note. It read, “In next nine months, there’ll be a photo of me, Daddy!”

He was stunned for a moment; mouth agape and his eyes followed the writing on the note multiple times to make sure what he read was true. Slowly, he looked at me. His voice was wobbling as he asked me, “Sofia…are you…?”

I was full on bawling now, “Yeah…I am pregnant.”

“We’re….having…a baby?”

“Yup.”

“I…” he was kneeling in front of me now, cradling my head in his hands like he’s holding his entire world as his other hand slowly went up to my belly, delicately caressing it.

“I am also terrified as fuck and its alright if you are too but I am also so happy. I know that you’re sca..”

“What if I ruin our baby’s life, Sof” this was his first response.

He was trembling now, and I didn’t know if it was from affection or fear.

“You won’t. I swear, you will be the best dad, baby.” The waves felt like background music now.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I am, Sofia but I’m…baby…what I fuck up, and our kid turns out to be like me. I know that if our baby is like you, I will be the luckiest mother fucker on Earth but there is a high chance that he or she will turn out like me and then…”

I was both tired and sad that he will always see himself through his worst parts while my vision will always view his bad parts or what used to be his bad parts just as the stitches holding his golden, brazen and passionate parts of his soul. So I cut his rambling with a swift kiss. Our lips melded into each other as our hands tightly manoeuvring each other; silently promising not to let each other go.

I slowly and sombrely drifted away from his lips as I said, “First of all, mistakes will happen, Rafe but don’t tell me that our baby being like you is a bad thing when I know that then they will grown to be the most loving, affectionate person ever. And I am here, I am not going anywhere. Don’t you think that I am also afraid that I may also make mistakes. Yes, but I know that our baby will be alright because we will be there for them no matter what happens.”

He looked at me like I hung the stars for him, he eyes looked enamoured as he spoke, “God, I love you so much and no matter what happens, I know that our baby is a part of you and I swear to God, I will love it more than my life, Sof”

“See, you are more than being a good dad, and they haven’t even come out of me yet.” I was laughing, happy tears covering my eyeline.

We stared into each other eyes, trying to come around the fact that we are on the cusp of the grandest part of our lives. All I knew that as long as we had each other, we can quell each other’s storms of our hearts and paint the darkest corners of our minds with technicolour.

As we were giggling, high on life and from the sugar from the choclate cupcakes. we both knew.

Life was going to be more beautiful. And we were ready for it with open arms.

Yea, so that’s how I knew that we were pregnant.

#rafe cameron fic #rafe x sofia #obx #sofia obx #my writing

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