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snowy-vee · 2 months

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Academic Rivals [One-Shot]

ellie williams x fem!reader

n/a: this is my first ff and first time writing smut🤷🏾‍♀️ PLEASE JUDGE, I love constructive criticism, also English is not my first language! Any misspelling will be edited if anything, I hope you guys enjoy♡ Also I don't think I will ever write "smut" again

HELP GAZA

You let out a scream that was drowned out by your pillow as you kicked and whimpered like a little girl.

“It’s not fair! Not fair! I was better than her at everything how did she won? I’m a pathetic number two… Mom, why do we have to host this stupid party? I hate this!”

The door to your room was open, and in the doorway, your mother was looking at you as if you were crazy.

“Honey, I already told everyone that I would have a party if you graduated with honours. How would I know that they would make you share them with someone else?”

“And you had to invite Ellie and her friends?”

“It’s called politeness… I don’t care! Wipe away those tears, you should be happy with what you’ve achieved, stop acting like a little girl and get ready, the guests will arrive in no time.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror, seeing all your mask through your eyes. You just had to nod and go prepare a good bath trying to forget in the hot water but how when in happen so recently.

A few hours ago, while you were in class, you were called by the principal to go see him, and you already knew that it was going to be to tell you that you were the student with honours of your promotion. So imagine the surprise when you opened the door and there was someone else.

Ellie fucking Williams. The only student you had competition with, and that irritated you, but even more because it seemed so easy for her. It didn’t matter what the subject matter was; Ellie mastered it quickly, while you had to push yourself a little harder and lose sleep until you understood all the subjects.

The smile you had before you opened the door dropped a little, but the look on your face when the principal said you’d both share the title was funny, at least for Ellie. Once she had dismissed you both from the office, Ellie let out the loudest, most exaggerated laugh befitting a villain.

“It’s not funny! This is inadmissible; it must be a mistake.”

“You’ve heard the old man, there are no mistakes; we tied… I’ll see you tonight at our party.” You’ll never forget her smile and how she looked you up and down before heading out into the hallway.

Going back to the present time, you had already finished cleaning up and could already hear the voice of the guests.

“Your mother says come down now.” The door to your room opened, revealing Ellie leaning against it, “You look good.”

“I’d like to say the same, but you’re wearing jeans,” you said, walking past her and bumping into her shoulder intentionally. What a great night this was going to be.

❀❀❀

The celebration was supposed to end two hours ago, but the adults got along so well that they decided to stay longer. Most of your friends had gone home; only Ellie and her friends Dina and Jesse were still here, but you couldn’t care less since you were in your backyard sitting behind some bushes while drinking the bottle of vodka that you knew your mother wouldn’t miss.

“Here you are,” Ellie said, and you couldn’t help but let out a snort. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look good?”

“For me, you always do,” she said as she sat down next to you, taking the bottle out of your hands and taking a sip. “Fuck, I never thought someone as uptight as you could drink something as strong.”

“Uptight? Wow, I’m sorry, Miss Sunshine. Not everyone has time to fool around, go to every party, do nothing, and still have everything coming handy to them; some of us work hard.”

“I don’t get you; what have I ever done to you? We don’t even talk! You despise me for some school grades? That’s insane,” she chuckled, shaking her head while taking another vodka sip.

“What have you ever done to me?!” This was your final strike: “You just win and win; try to be friends with me as if you pitied me when you don’t even care what you win! You come to class not even knowing what subject you are, and you talk every minute of it, and somehow, you get the highest score,” you snapped.

“And everybody likes you! You are friendly even if you are a dork; nobody gives a fuck about the savage Starlight comics, but there you go talking about it with everyone and you get them to listen to you, but I don’t buy it; I don’t buy your pretty face,your pretty eyes, the way that they shine when you are talking about it, when you laugh so hard that you start crying, how your stupid freckles look so cute when you move your stup-¡hmmp!”

You were silenced by Ellie’s bitter lips because of the vodka; it didn’t matter. Ellie’s fierce and hungry lips claimed yours with an urgency that took your breath away, and the bitterness was soon forgotten, replaced by the sweetness of your peach lip gloss.

Her hands confidently swept around your waist, pushing you closer to her to the point that you ended up on top of her with your hand on either side of her face, cupping her cheeks.

Ellie gently pulled away, revealing the strip of saliva between both mouths, to admire you for a moment. “Now, this is the good and quiet girl I’ve seen in class.” You could feel the embarrassment run through your entire body as you tried to get out of her lap, but Ellie’s grip became tighter on your waist. “I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t you want to continue?”

You bit your lower lip, slowly shaking your head. Ellie nodded, bringing her hands to your neck. The feel of her rough hands undoing the single knot of your halter dress made your body tremble with excitment, more knowing you weren’t even wearing a bra, so when the dress fell gracefully, you were practically naked to Ellie.

A gasp escaped your lips as I felt Ellie’s wet tongue licking your sensitive nipple before putting it all in her mouth, and you thought the scene was so obscene. You were trying to suppress your sounds so that no one inside the house would come out to see where they were coming from.

“Ellie, fuck,” you moaned softly, feeling like your core was getting wet. You needed to kiss her again, so you did it by taking a bit of initiative from the moment she started.

The kiss turned hungry, and you were so lost in it that you didn’t notice when Ellie laid you down on the grass until she broke it, leaving kisses on your neck and down to your belly button. “You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasized about this moment, of having you like this for me.”

“Shut up, you’re still a dork,” you said. Even in this situation where you were submissive, you couldn’t control your mouth. That was so funny for her.

“I think I deserve an apology from you,” Ellie said, bending down to your thighs, both hands at your sides gripping them firmly and kissing.

With one finger, she pushed aside the fabric of your thong. You could feel her breath against your clitoral area. “Don’t you plan to do it? Don’t you think I deserve it?”

She was driving you crazy talking so close to your cunt, “Oh, come on, Ellie, not right now.”

You were getting impatient. Ellie started playing with the straps of the thong as she slowly removed them. “Now or I’ll stop, and none of us want that, right?

“Fuck you, Willia—ah!” didn’t even give you time to cover your mouth, and when Ellie started licking your clit, the slurping sounds made the moment more dirty.

Her tongue was doing wonders, and you felt close. “Say how sorry you are and why.”

She demanded again; now her fingers were lingering around your needy pussycat, teasing you so bad. “I’m sorry, ok? I’m sorry for calling you a dork. Just… please, continue.”

You begged, feeling frustrated, but she wasn’t satisfied with that. “There’s more you should be sorry for; keep going.”

Her finger slipped inside your wet pussy easily, and she was going slow with it; she was torturing you. “Uh, Oh, god.”

You couldn’t contain your moans if you also had to say, “Come on, princess.”

The second and third fingers made it more difficult; at this point, this wasn’t teasing; it was a punishment.

“I can’t… I don’t know… Sorry for treating you badly; I was frustrated and took it all on you.”

With that, she quickened her movements. “You were always such a bitch to me. Now look at you, behaving like a slut.”

She let out a little chuckle, seeing how hard you were biting your fingers to not moan loudly, so she kissed you so you could drown them in her mouth.

“Mm cumming,” you mumble in between the kisses before breaking it and letting out a whimper.

Ellie could feel how your walls were wrapping her fingers and how your legs were trembling while she was kissing your neck and whispering things like ‘you did good’,’my princess’…

After you regained composure and got dressed again, you couldn’t look at Ellie in her eyes, but she was staring at you blindly.

“Don’t go around telling people about this.”

“I’d never do that.”

“And don’t think we are friends just because of what happened.”

“I don’t want to be your friend; I want more.”

Who could’ve thought that the girl you’ve been hating on for years would end up giving you the greatest orgasm you’ve ever had?

(even though you barely had any sexual experience.)

And also, she had a crush on you; she had to be the maschochissest to like you after all the bickering you two had, but there she was confessing in a vague way her feelings and waiting for your answer with her green eyes shining intensely.

“I-”

“Honey? Ellie? Where are you, girls? Time to go and say goodbye!” That was your mom’s voice approaching. You kicked the bottle of vodka into the bushes and got out of the hiding space.

“There you girls are; come on, say good-bye; Ellie has to go.”

You look at the auburn-haired girl biting your lip, feeling conflicted. “Bye, Ellie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Not even looking at her again, you entered the house and went upstairs to your bedroom, hearing your mom say good-bye to everyone.

You threw yourself on the bed and stayed looking at the ceiling, thinking about what the fuck just happened and how tomorrow you’d have to give an answer to Ellie.

What was it going to be? Yes or No?

#ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #tlou #the last of us #ellie smut #lgbtq #wlw #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader smut #fanfic #snowy-vee

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writer-in-theory · 1 year

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berry sweet on your lips

TW: Period-typical homophobia, Some Internalized homophobia, Implied abuse (Steve's dad is a pos)

When Steve was seven, his Mama caught him in her makeup.

He was sitting up on the bathroom counter, sloppily drawn eyeliner over his eyelids and trying to apply bright cherry red lipstick to his lips without smearing. The application process required so much focus he hadn't realized when the front door opened downstairs, or when his mom called repeatedly for him to come down to dinner. He did hear the surprised little yelp from her though, and the sigh once she realized which eyeliner he'd accidentally broken.

"Honey, those aren't toys to play with." His Mama's voice was tight like she was barely containing her frustration at the lost products. Dad always made her upset, and Steve didn't want to add to it. So it didn't seem like a good time to correct her, that no, he wasn't trying to play. He'd seen how pretty makeup could make people, and he wanted it. He wanted to be pretty.

Instead, he sighed and nodded, hopping down from the counter. "Sorry, Mama."

"It's okay, baby, that stuff just isn't for kids to play with. C'mon, let's get you washed up and we can get some dinner."

It wasn't the last time he'd thought about makeup, though it took years until Steve found the courage to try again.

It happened when he was fourteen in Carol Perkins's basement. He, Tommy, and Carol spent most nights together anymore. The Perkins' always volunteered to babysit Steve when he was younger and his Mama started going on business trips with his dad, and they always let Tommy come over so he wouldn't be left out. That basement with its bright tie-dyed blankets scattered around and posters of every attractive celebrity you could imagine felt more like home than his own house.

Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable suggesting it in the first place.

"Ugh, I need more girl friends, honestly," Carol groaned, flopping back onto the pile of pillows and blankets she'd acquired.

"What now? We're not entertaining enough?" Tommy teased from where he and Steve were playing air hockey. Steve's knuckles were sure to bruise tomorrow from the speed with which they were knocking the puck at each other but they hadn't stopped laughing yet. "Need to go braid Tina's hair and talk about boys?"

"You're not boring," Carol clarified, "but it'd be nice to do someone's makeup and talk about boys every once in awhile. A girl needs some gossip."

Tommy laughed, so Steve laughed too because it seemed the right thing to do. But really...it didn't sound so bad, did it? So when the laughter died down, he spoke up. "You could put makeup on me, I don't care," Steve shrugged.

He did. He did care so much. Even the thought of it made his heart flutter, threatening to fly away at any second.

"Really?" Carol raise one eyebrow, sitting all the way up and twisting around to face him. "You'd let me put makeup on you? The whole thing, I don't do boring makeup."

"C'mon, man, don't let her do that to you," Tommy groaned, but Steve just shrugged again and abandoned the air hockey table, coming over to sit down on the floor with Carol.

"It washes off, right?" As if he hadn't known how easy it was to swipe off red lipstick, though it would always leave a deep tint to his lips like he'd been eating berries. "It can't hurt."

It at least made Carol happy, and seeing her smile as she rushed off to retrieve her makeup bag made Tommy's grumbles about ditching the game worth it.

And you know, it was fun. Carol was actually gentle, and seemed to know what she was doing. Steve had his eyes closed most of the time while she brushed powder and liner on them, as she swiped mascara on and tried to perfect whatever glamorous look she'd seen in her latest magazine. She did talk about boys too, all about which girl had crushes on each boy that they knew, and why Eric Thompson was the most crushed on boy in Hawkins Middle.

"Eric Thompson? Get a grip, Perkins, you can do so much better than him," Steve told her, laughing at her indignant shout.

"Seriously. The guy's a total meathead," Tommy called from where he was sprawled out across one of the couches, idly watching whatever movie the Perkins' decided to rent for the night.

"You're a total meathead," Carol shot back in return. "Not Stevie here, though. No, I think after I tell all the girls about what a good guy you are, you'll be the new king of Hawkins Middle."

"Screw Hawkins Middle, I better be king of Hawkins High for this," Steve laughed, only because he had no idea how to thank her for it. By the time he'd left the Perkins' house the next morning, the bright eyeshadow and tacky lip gloss had been washed away but the feeling of pure peace it had brought him persisted.

Steve hadn't dared try again, not until he was sixteen and saw a guy wearing nail polish. It was one of the Seniors, the one who wore all black and who the whole basketball team called The Freak. And maybe he was a freak, Steve didn't really ever have a reason to talk to him and find out, but the sight of the swath of black over his nails left Steve breathless.

"You taking photography this semester, Harrington?" The guy—something Munson, Steve thinks—asked when Steve hadn't stopped staring in the hallway.

"Huh?" Steve startled, looking down both sides of the hallway as if to check if any of his friends were seeing who he was talking to. "No?"

"Shame," Munson let out a little 'tsk' noise, the way Steve's dad always did when he was disappointed. "You could've taken a picture and made it last longer."

Oh, oh. Steve's face flushed red, and the second he saw a flash of another green and orange letterman he panicked. They would know, oh God they'd see him with The Freak and it would all be over, they would figure out that he wanted to paint his nails too and—

Steve wasn't proud of the words spoken after that. They lingered far after he'd said them, swirling in his head until it sounded a little more like his dad was repeating them over and over again, reminding Steve of just what kind of person he was to stay clear away from.

It was that guilt that finally convinced him to go to Melvald's, where the kind woman at the counter didn't question why he was buying the cheapest makeup products he could find. He didn't even know if any of it would look good together, he just knew he needed it. He needed a way to see himself like this before he messed up again where someone could see, where someone could figure him out.

And so began the careful ritual. Every night he'd rush home from practice, lock his bedroom door even though he knew his parents were away on another trip, and swipe the makeup over his eyes, cheeks, lips. He got better at it with every attempt, until the liner wasn't shaky and his lipstick didn't look like it had already been kissed off (and now, wasn't that a thought).

Except that was the trouble with secrets, wasn't it? They couldn't stay buried for long, not when Hawkins was so small and this felt so much larger than the town, than the state, than anything Steve had ever been apart of.

It was only a matter of time until his dad found out.

That night he'd been sloppy, unprepared for his parents to come home early. The light in the upstairs bathroom had gone out and instead of changing it he'd moved downstairs, where the lights had already been switched out to a cooler white that made it easier to see what colors he was painting his skin with.

Steve Harrington was pretty sure he would die that night, all over deep red lipstick and perfectly-drawn eyeliner.

He didn't know where he was running to, all he knew was that he couldn't stay in Loch Nora. He ran until he was near the edge of town, nothing but trees and the one road leading out surrounded him. Steve hadn't had his car keys on him, and there was no way he could go back for them without facing his dad's righteous anger. Steve let out a painful cry, finding nothing left to do but lay down on the pavement and stare at the stars. He was barely eighteen, no car, no money except whatever bills were stuffed in his pocket, no plan. Just himself and that damned red lipstick still lingering like berry-stained evidence on his lips.

He didn't move for anything. Not when the night grew chilly enough to freeze his joints and prick up goosebumps on his arms. Not when the rumble of an old car engine came roaring in the distance, or for the subsequent squeal of brakes and a loud horn.

"Shit, Harrington, I know you have air for a brain but what the fuck are you do—" The person cut themselves off, like from seeing the state of him. They'd probably hit him too, kick at him while he was down because why the fuck did he think he could get away with this shit in the middle of nowhere Indiana?

"Shit, Harrington," the voice hissed again, sounding as pained as Steve thought he should feel.

"Get on with it," Steve voiced, voice rough with tears and the violent yells his dad had hit out of him.

"Get on with what?"

Steve rolled his eyes, turning his head to meet Eddie Munson's gaze. He wondered if he still painted his nails. He wondered if it even mattered, because even Eddie Munson didn't do what Steve did. "I'm tired, man. If you're gonna get your revenge on me make it quick."

That startled Eddie, reminding Steve of just how expressive the guy was. It was almost humorous, the way his head reeled back and his eyes widened impossibly far.

"Get in the van, Harrington."

Right, if Eddie was gonna murder him he couldn't do it out in the open, not where anyone could be driving by.

So Steve picked himself up from the ground, not bothering to brush off his jeans before sliding into the passenger seat. They didn't talk the whole drive. No music played. They just sat in complete and total silence, punctuated only by the nervous taps of Eddie's hand on the steering wheel.

Eddie Munson must be stupider than he was. Most murderers wouldn't drive their victim to their own trailer before finishing the job. Though, Steve supposed all Eddie had to say was that he saw Steve Harrington wearing lipstick and it'd all be waved away. Upstanding citizen, that Eddie Munson was.

"Shower's back there, there's a first aid kit on the shelf," Eddie spoke, unable to stand still once they got inside the trailer.

And that, well that was just downright weird. Steve tilted his head to the side, eyeing the little hallway Eddie waved his hand at like it might jump at him. "What's happening?"

"What do you mean?" Eddie sounded tired, like he hadn't slept in weeks. Steve felt like he'd never slept at all, like he might never again.

"You...aren't you gonna...?"

"I mean, I could if you think you're gonna fall," Eddie said nervously, eyes also watching the hallway. "Just tryin' to protect your modesty, man."

"What?" Nothing was making sense, and Steve was beginning to wonder if maybe his head had hit the tile floor one too many times because this was supposed to be simple, cut and dry.

"Can you just go clean up, Harrington?"

"Why?"

"Because I hate seeing all that damn blood on you, okay?" Eddie snapped out, voice raising in pitch the more worked up he got. "I don't know what the hell happened, but I hate it."

Oh.

"You're not...you're not gonna...?" Steve repeated, including a lackluster air punch.

That seemed to make everything click in place for Eddie. He sucked in a breath and both hands flew to the top of his head, scraping through his unruly curls. "Shit, you think? Nah, man, I'm not a piece of shit like whoever did that to you. C'mon."

Eddie started walking down the hallway, and honestly this all felt so vaguely dreamlike Steve couldn't do anything but follow, wordlessly sitting on the toilet lid where Eddie waved for him to be. The other man was knelt between his legs, wiping off his face with a wet washcloth. His touch was gentle, experienced as he wiped away the blood and set to work rubbing antibiotic onto each open cut.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Steve whispered out, eyes focused on the barest hint of eyeliner on Eddie's eyes. The other man clearly wasn't wearing it to be pretty though. No, this was drawn on with intentional haste, and made Eddie look so fucking badass that Steve didn't know what to do about it. "I sucked in school. I was awful to you."

Eddie's hands didn't stop, brown eyes focused on Steve's lips as he wiped at the split in the lower one. He could see the breath hitch in the other man's chest though, a quick collapse of Eddie's chest before his breath restarted at a normal rhythm. "You did suck, but that doesn't mean you deserve this."

Steve didn't say anything else, couldn't really. Not when the lump in his throat grew until he was sure he would never be able to breathe again, and the tears began to spill without inhibition. And Eddie, well Eddie let him. He just kept patching him up, never saying anything, never berating him or looking disgusted by the tears. He just sat with Steve while he let it out, eyes looking to Steve's every so often as if to check he was okay.

"I think something's wrong with me." The whisper sounded so loud in the tiny bathroom, echoing around and around and smacking into Steve's chest repeatedly.

"No." It was the first time Eddie seemed bothered by anything Steve said all night, fingers gripping tightly around the corner of the counter he was holding to keep himself steady. "There's nothing wrong with you."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but Eddie cut him off. He looked Steve right in the eyes, a kind of fire lighting up in those dark brown eyes of his. "Steve Harrington, there is nothing wrong or broken or shameful about you. So you like to wear makeup, lots of guys do."

"I've never met anyone who does."

"Because you're in Bumfuck, Indiana," Eddie continued on, never sounding more passionate than he did now. It was intense, sure, but Steve had longed for someone, anyone, to say what Eddie was now. And of course it was the guy with the painted nails he'd been enraptured by years before. "Just you wait, pretty boy, there's a whole world out there with people like us."

Like us. Like us.

"C'mon, you need some sleep. We can figure out the details in the morning."

"Wait...what?"

Eddie laughed a little, shattering the heavy moment with a burst of pure warmth. He stood up and offered a ringed hand out to help Steve up despite him not needing it. Eddie's hand was cold in his own, but it felt right there.

"Try to keep up, Harrington," he teased. "If you don't mind sharing a bed, you can stay here. Us freaks have to stick together, right?"

"I mean...your uncle won't...?"

"Nah, Wayne'll love pissin' Robert Harrington off," Eddie answered coolly, "And he's cool with...everything."

And despite Steve's skepticism, he was. Wayne Munson was pretty much the greatest support anyone could ever have. His face had flashed dangerously when Steve admitted what happened, saying the world had no place for men who hit their boys (Steve wondered only briefly why the topic seemed to pain Wayne so much). And living with Eddie Munson, well, it was great. The trailer was small and Eddie kicked in his sleep, but Eddie also smiled from the second he was awake and the no place had ever quite felt like home in the way the Munson trailer did.

And the next time Steve found the courage to sit and do his makeup, it came with bright smiles instead of that old, lingering fear.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #kinda #they'll get there #stranger things #steve x eddie #canon divergence #au no upside down #tw homophobia #tw implied abuse #jay writes in theory #this is totally unedited sorry you get it as is #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet

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totowlff · 8 months

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le temps fera les choses

➝ request: you could write a story where toto and reader are divorced [...] drunk toto calls reader and just rambles about life and how he misses her and everything, or if you wanna go further

➝ word count: 8,5k

➝ warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, an overprotective reader and a lot of real life references

➝ author’s note: well, working with the idea of divorced!toto turned some gears in my head and this one shot was born. it was inspired, in a way, by the song le temps fera les choses, by angèle, and the text even has some references to the lyrics, so don't be surprised. toto's aunt is actually called elisabeth, and given my commitment to reality, i kept it that way (a happy coincidence, i won't deny it). hope you enjoy!

Looking at the man on the seat in front of you, part of yourself refused to believe you were doing this. “This is insanity”, you could hear your mother's trademark accusatory tone of voice telling you. You know she was right, even as a voice inside your head, but there you were, sitting across from your ex-husband, watching him completely absorbed in that day’s edition of the Financial Times, as you sat on his private jet, en route to Sardinia.

Your story with Toto began in the fall of the year 2000, at the gala opening of an exhibition at an art gallery in the center of Vienna. You had earned your Masters in Art History, and had always been enchanted by antiquities, and had done extensive research on the history of antiquarians in Vienna. Your research led to an invitation given personally by Elisabeth Sturm, daughter of Czesław Bednarczyk, one of the most prominent antique dealers in Vienna, and the subject of a paper you were writing for your PhD.

You just had no idea that what she invited you to discuss wasn’t your paper, or the pieces on exhibit.

— You know, Y/N, my son also recently graduated in contemporary art and has a great interest in post-war pieces, just like you — she said, as she led you through the multitude of guests with a wide smile on her face.

After passing by a couple she seemed acquainted with, and greeting a friend of many years, Elisabeth finally found who she was looking for. Nodding toward two men holding champagne flutes, you walked over to them with her. The words of the specialist in eighteenth century pieces became distant murmurs in your head as your eyes were fixed on one of them, who seemed to be looking at you with curiosity.

— Alex, honey, I want to introduce you to Y/N Y/L/N. She's doing a doctorate in Art and Economics at Die Angewandte, so she’s doing some research on the city's antique shops — Elisabeth said, smiling — Y/N, this is my son, Alexander. He is working on his masters’ at the University of Vienna in contemporary art, but I am sure that you will find a lot to talk about.

You forced a smile, offering your hand for a handshake. He was the same height as his mother, with carefully combed-back brown hair and stern dark eyes.

— It's a pleasure — you said.

— The pleasure is all mine — he said.

Then, your gaze returned to the man who had caught your attention. He was much taller than Alexander, but had dark hair and dark eyes that were similar to Alexander’s. The two of them definitely looked related, but there was something tender about the way he was looking at you.

— And this is Torger, my sister’s son, who just arrived back in Vienna from the United States. California, right?

— That's right — he replied, his deep voice flowing through you in a warm wave — San Francisco.

— Remind me, what you were doing there again, Torger?

— Learning about the business side of the technology industry — he said, smiling — By the way, you can call me Toto. Nobody calls me Torger.

— Your dziadek calls you Torger — Elisabeth muttered, something bitter in her voice.

— Good to know that dada still remembers me — Toto muttered, before taking a sip of champagne — Even though it's probably just to call me ungrateful because of the fucking tuition he paid when I was 12...

— Well, is he wrong? — Elisabeth growled, before looking at her son, who seemed to be silently begging her to control herself — And it's no use looking at me like that, Alex, you know it's true.

— We don't need to discuss this here, mom.

— No, no, your mother should speak her mind, Alex — Toto said, giving his aunt a challenging smile — I don’t mind at all.

— You should be much more grateful to your dziadek, Torger. If it weren't for him, you would never have finished school, much less...

— Gotten that internship at the bank, I’ve heard all of this before, auntie — he replied — But that doesn't change the fact that he was an asshole who disowned my mother for marrying my father.

Elisabeth took a step forward, one finger raised.

— Be more careful with your words, Torger — she said through clenched teeth.

— Mom, please — Alex said, placing himself between Elisabeth and his nephew — Let's get you something to drink.

After some protest on her part, the woman finally agreed to accompany her son, who apologized before taking Elisabeth away from them. Alone beside Toto, the silence between the two of you stretched for a few seconds before your gaze met.

— Are your family gatherings always like this? — you asked, making him smile.

— They're usually worse — Toto replied, making you laugh.

It was the first of many times that night that he would make you laugh.

You didn't see any more of Elisabeth or Alexander that night, and you didn't want to. You only had eyes and ears for Toto, listening to him talk about his trip to San Francisco and the investment he had made in SMS.AT, the country's most-visited website, as well as asking you about your background and life in general.

— Do you have a boyfriend? — he asked you.

You both stopped in front of a sculpture of a woman on her knees with bitter tears in her eyes, you suddenly felt nervous.

— What do you think?

— I can’t imagine someone as intelligent and beautiful as you being single.

You chuckled weakly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

— I'm sorry to say that I am. Not everyone is willing to spend hours listening to me talk about old things sold by old people.

— Well, I am — he said immediately, in an almost boyish rush to demonstrate that he was, in fact, interested in what you had to say. And it was at that moment that you were sure that what you were feeling was not simple anxiety or infatuation.

You were falling in love with that man.

— Find something interesting? — someone said, bringing you back to the present, your gaze meeting the same pair of mischievous brown eyes from that night at the exhibition.

— There’s an article about an exhibition of Yayoi period artifacts from Japan — you replied, making Toto turn the cover of the newspaper to find the article you were glancing at.

— Asian art? I thought your interests were more in Europe — he said, the corners of his lips curling up mischievously.

— Nothing wrong with learning all I can, Toto — you replied, turning your face away when you heard the sound of someone shifting in one of the other seats. Sleeping with her head against the window was the most important person in your life.

Magdalena. Your daughter with Toto.

Born just over four years after that night at the exhibition, she was the tangible symbol of the love you felt for each other at one time. She had your nose and her father's charming smile. Lena, as you called her, was a girl with a strong personality. She was incredibly intelligent and particularly observant. Nothing went unnoticed by her brown eyes, not even your indecision in participating in that trip.

You took off your seat belt and walked over to your daughter to check on her. After putting a blanket over her and taking the book she was reading before falling asleep from her hands, taking care to mark the page she had stopped on, you took a few seconds to watch her.

There had been many times when you had felt that you didn't have the strength to continue wearing the many hats you did: university professor, gallery curator, private consultant for antique dealers and private collectors. However, Lena was your motivation to keep going. She was the reason that you got up early and went to bed late, after correcting piles of academic papers. She was the reason you signed on the bottom line of a legal document to put an end to yours and Toto’s marriage on a gray winter day so many years ago.

— You don't have to watch her like you did when she was a baby — Toto murmured behind you. When you turned around, you saw that he had folded up his newspaper and that it was sitting in his lap.

— I'm just making sure she's okay — you replied, running a hand through her hair before returning to your seat — After all, we're here because of her.

Toto smiled.

— Indeed. Always for her.

That trip wasn’t planned very far in advance, but it was the result of Lena's excitement at having achieved excellent grades in the Reifeprüfung, the end-of-school exams that students in Austria took to graduate.

Sardinia was her favorite place in the world and she wanted nothing more than to go and enjoy the sun and the sea with the two people she loved most in the world. You hesitated, after all, it had been years since you had gone there with her and Toto.

You were capable of giving up anything for Lena, even your own promise of never flying anywhere with your ex-husband again. There was nothing you wouldn't do for your daughter's happiness.

The rest of the flight was quiet, with Lena waking up near the end of it. Her messy hair earned her a good-natured jab from Toto, which his daughter returned to him in kind. The interaction made you smile, after all, it was just another proof of how similar your daughter was to her father, even though she hadn't had his constant presence since she was five.

“Genetics are impressive”, you thought to yourself as the captain of the jet asked over the intercom for everyone to fasten their seatbelts in preparation for landing in Olbia, in the north of the Italian island. However, contrary to what you thought, Toto had not chosen to book suites in a nearby hotel, but in a more distant location. It was all to preserve the privacy he had lost when he decided to dive headlong into the world of Formula 1.

His passion for motorsport wasn’t ever a surprise for you, after all, since the first night you’d met him, Toto had been talking about how he competed in junior formula racing, just for fun. However, nobody could have predicted that buying some shares in a Formula 1 team that seemed to be on the brink of bankruptcy would lead to him being the team principal and part-owner of one of the largest, most prestigious teams in the sport, almost a celebrity in his own right.

However, the attention brought him unwanted problems, especially with the paparazzi, who insisted on photographing him in private moments during his rest days, even more so when he was with Lena. In the end, the further away from the hustle and bustle of the island's busiest cities, the better.

He and Lena had chosen a resort in Valle dell'Erica, which had a small network of luxury villas connected to the main building by stone paths traveled by golf carts. After settling into a golf cart with your daughter, Toto sat in the driver's seat, asking the concierge to ride the front cart with the bags.

— Are you taking us camping? — Lena asked, after a few minutes of meandering through the compound's tree-lined paths.

— No, I'm not, though I think a few days away from your cell phone wouldn't hurt you, would they? — he replied, laughing — We're going to one of the villas that’s the furthest out, to make sure we don’t get a repeat of last time.

— You mean when my classmates saw your pictures on the yacht and started asking if you were still single? — she murmured, forcing you to try and hold in a laugh. You would never forget the way Lena recounted, indignant, the way her schoolmates were talking about her father.

It was useless to deny that Toto was a handsome man. With his piercing eyes, broad shoulders, and imposing height, you'd been drawn to him since the first time you'd seen him in the gallery. And as much as you wanted to deny it, the power he wielded over you hadn't diminished with the divorce.

If you were honest with yourself, it had only grown.

— I'm not to blame for anything, mon bébé...

— Just don't walk around… Dressed like that — she replied.

— Like that?

— With only a pair of shorts on, especially those shorts — Lena said, making her father laugh.

— Bébé, it's just a pair of shorts...

— They were pink! They’re way too flashy for someone your age!

— You’re talking as if I’m just some decrepit old man, Lena.

— Maybe not decrepit, but definitely an old man who shouldn’t be wearing pink shorts.

He brought the cart to a stop as the concierge, in front of them, opened a red gate.

— I bet your mom likes my flashy shorts — Toto murmured, glancing at you and you just rolled your eyes.

— I don't care about your shorts, Torger.

— You used to — he replied, revving the cart again.

— But I don't anymore. And honestly, you shouldn't care either, Lena. Your father is probably just going through a midlife crisis like every man has at some point. Don't be surprised if he shows up one day with your name tattooed on his arm, or riding a Harley-Davidson.

The statement made your daughter burst out laughing, while Toto shook his head, as if disapproving of your idea of him during a midlife crisis.

Well, a second midlife crisis.

Toto stopped the golf cart just behind the concierge, who was unloading your bags with the help of another employee. After you disembarked, the man invited the three of you to join him as he showed you your villa. With a living room richly decorated with colorful paintings and vases made by local artisans, three suites and spacious balconies overlooking the private pool, as well as the sea in the distance, the place felt like something out of a dream.

— Anything you need, we're here for you.

— Thanks — you replied, smiling.

Finally alone in the living room, the three of you looked at each other silently, as if waiting for someone to say something. Then, after looking at his watch and running a hand through his dark hair, Toto cleared his throat.

— So, what do you ladies want to do first? — he asked.

Looking at the orange tones that took over the sky, you smiled.

— I think we can start by figuring out where everyone will sleep.

— Dad can have the exterior room, right? — your daughter said.

— Why do I have to stay in that room? — Toto asked, his voice full of faux-outrage.

— Because mom and I are girls — Lena replied, linking her arm with yours — And girls always stay together on trips.

Your ex-husband couldn't hold his feigned disappointment for long.

— Okay, you can stay together. Just don't bring any boys here — he said, as he grabbed the handle of his bags and turned toward the door.

— What about men? — you asked, defiant. As he looked over his shoulder, something inscrutable flashed in his eyes.

— No men either, Y/N — he said as he left the villa’s main hall.

Giggling with laughter, you planted a kiss on Lena's forehead before telling her to go and put her bags in her room. After seeing her going through her bedroom’s door, it was your turn to make your way to your quarters, dragging your well-used suitcases noisily behind you. After setting them down in front of the small wooden cupboard, you allowed yourself to slump onto the soft mattress, closing your eyes.

The fact that you were on this trip was crazy.

The days dragged on at an excruciating pace, even though you were on vacation. As much as seeing Lena happy to be together with her father and mother on a trip after years was satisfying, but something was making you feel set on edge.

You couldn't say what it was, but you were sure it was related to how Toto was treating you. Unlike the interactions the two of you usually had, filled with sarcasm and acidity, the way your ex-husband was speaking to you was almost… sweet, delicate. He had even asked you to dance during a dinner in Porto Cervo, when the musicians started to play the music that had played during your first dance as husband and wife.

— I remember that night like it was yesterday — he murmured.

— Do you? — you asked quietly, as you felt his hand firmly hold yours — I thought you had too much on your mind to remember that.

He smiled.

— I could never forget the day my life changed, Y/N.

You should have guessed that this was just a strategy, a way to get you to drop your guard to deliver the final blow the next night, over dinner at one of the resort's restaurants. Silently, Toto, who was wearing one of his white monogrammed shirts and comfortable linen shorts, placed his silverware on the plate of ricotta ravioli and looked at Lena.

— Mon bébé, I know we're here to celebrate but I can't help but ask you about your plans — he said, with a serious expression — Have you chosen what you're going to study yet?

Your daughter wiped her mouth with her napkin, as she finished chewing.

— Well, I was talking to mom these days about it and I would really like to work on something related to international studies. You know, diplomacy.

— Diplomacy?

— You know, I learned how to be a mediator at home — Lena murmured, giving you a mischievous little smile. In a way, she wasn't wrong, after all, Lena had always been the person that balanced you and Toto, putting out the fires you started, especially because of her upbringing.

— And have you researched universities, bébé? — Toto asked, before taking a sip of wine.

— Mom gave me the contact information of some professors in the Political Science and Philosophy departments at the University of Vienna to schedule a visit and learn about them — she replied — Why?

— Well, I was thinking that maybe, if you wanted to, you could apply to a university outside of Austria.

You swallowed hard, the hands that held the cutlery going cold.

— Do you mean — your daughter babbled.

— Well, you know that I live in Oxford and there is a university of international prestige there, which has formed dozens of important figures in world history. American presidents, British prime ministers, kings, Nobel Prize winners. Perhaps you could…

— Study there? — Lena completed, looking impressed by the offer. Toto smiled.

— Exactly.

— But, I would need a place to stay…

— Magdalena, don't be ridiculous, you know you can live with me there. In fact, I would be very happy if you would move in with me while you're in Oxford. What do you think?

Your heart was racing in your chest, the cutlery clenched in your fists. You felt like you were going to explode with rage at any moment, jaw clenched. You couldn't believe your ex-husband had been capable of such a dirty move. But, you weren't going to let him win, not that night.

— Bullshit — you said, before Lena could process the question — That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard, Torger.

— I was talking to Lena.

— She doesn't need to bother answering — you said, gruffly — She's not going to England.

— Mom — your daughter said, in a warning tone.

— What? Do you really think this is a good idea?

— Of course it's a good idea, Y/N, Oxford is a great — Toto began to argue.

— I don't care if Oxford is a good university, Lena won't go to England — you interrupted him, in a cold tone — And that's not open to discussion.

— But, mom...

— No buts, you're not going, Magdalena.

— Why not? — asked Toto.

— Because I will not let my daughter go to a foreign country alone, without any help or support…

Toto snorted.

— Y/N, did you really think Lena would be alone? Did you forget that I live there?

It was your turn to laugh.

— You live — you said, making air quotes with your fingers — Let's not be naive, you spend more time traveling than in that slum of yours in Oxford.

— Mom!

— For your information, my house is in one of the best areas of Oxford and has more than enough space for me and Lena — Toto spat.

— It’s not about space, Torger, I won't let her be alone there while you’re gallivanting around the world, playing with your cars!

— Would you rather she be left alone in Vienna while you play with your ancient junk collection? — he returned, venom dripping from his voice.

That sent a hot wave of anger up the back of your neck, your jaw clenched. Everything you had done had been for Lena. All the hours of work, all of the writing, research, assistant teaching, grading, earning your PhD, and working your way up in the university to be a respected, tenured professor, it had all been to provide for the life you two led in Vienna, as had been agreed upon during the divorce proceedings. Of course, the workload eventually took you and Lena apart physically, but that didn't lessen the love you felt for your daughter.

In fact, it only made it grow. And it was that love that made you get up, dropping your cloth napkin on the floor, jabbing your finger at your ex-husband.

— You watch your mouth talking about my work, you son of a bitch! — you snarled, causing several pairs of eyes to turn towards your table.

— Mom, for God's sake! — Lena exclaimed, trying to lower her hand — Everyone's looking at us!

— Let them look, Magdalena! — you spat — Let them know I'm not going to let this idiot say whatever he wants about my job!

— I just was repeating what you said, Y/N — Toto replied in an ironic tone.

— Dad! — your daughter growled, before looking back at you — Please, mom, calm down. Sit, please.

Annoyed, you settled back into your chair, your jaw set in anger. Your ex-husband looked at you with a certain cynicism in his eyes, as if he knew he had touched your most sensitive point. Beside you, Lena let out a sigh, as if trying to collect her thoughts.

— Is it really that hard for you not to fight like two kids? — she asked seriously.

— Lena — you stammered.

— No, mom — she said coldly — You promised that you wouldn't fight with dad on this trip, that you'd be nice. You promised me, mom.

— Bébé, please — Toto tried to interfere.

— Don’t bébé me, dad! — Lena exclaimed — You also have your share of blame. I asked you to be polite to my mother, not to make comments like that, to be understanding…

— I am being understanding, Lena!

— Being understanding is calling her work a joke? That’s your idea of being polite? — she asked, before turning to you, as if anticipating you were going to say something — And that goes for you too, mom. You two are acting like fucking children!

You thought of scolding her for her language, but you weren't able to, especially when you noticed that her eyes were wet.

— I just wanted that we could be a family, without these stupid fights over stupid things. You think about me so much that you forget that I think too, that I also have wishes and desires — Lena continued — It never crossed your minds that I don't want the same thing as you? That I don't want to stay in Vienna or go to England?

Your eyes met Toto's, guilt filling your chest. You always wanted Lena to have the freedom to do whatever she wanted, to fly even higher than you and your ex-husband. However, in your eagerness to provide a life full of experiences, you had forgotten the main thing, which was Lena herself.

— Lena — you said, watching her wipe away a tear that had trickled down her face.

— I just wanted you to stop thinking about yourselves and think about me — she spoke in a choked voice — That you would consider my opinion before deciding things for me.

— But we'll always consider your opinion — Toto said, reaching out a hand toward your daughter, who shrank away.

— Then why did you say you were going to take me to England?

— I — he hesitated, looking at you and then at Lena — I wanted to offer you a different experience, in a different country, in a different culture. I didn't think your mom would be so dramatic about it…

— I’m not being dramatic, Torger — you snapped.

Suddenly, Lena stood up, throwing her cloth napkin over the dish of spaghetti and shrimp she'd ordered, letting out a frustrated grunt.

— I give up on you two — she said, while picking up the bag that was hanging on the back of the chair — I give up!

You tried to protest, but didn't have time before you saw your daughter marching out of the restaurant, not looking back. A few seconds of hesitation later, you followed after her, not minding leaving the plate of pasta, that was already cold by that point.

— Lena! — you shouted, as you saw her walk towards one of the carts, sitting behind the wheel and throwing her purse on the seat next to it — Wait! My dear, please!

Your pleadings were of no avail as she stomped off the cart's accelerator, disappearing into the dark of the night and leaving you standing halfway on the dirt road with tears in your eyes.

Arriving back at the villa, after generous help from one of the staff who knew how to drive the cart, you went to Lena's bedroom door, placing a hand on the handle. However, when you turned it over, you found that it was locked.

— Lena, my love — you said, knocking lightly on the door.

— Go away! — she replied, the words hitting you like a knife.

— Lena, please, my daughter, open the door, let's talk...

— I don't want to talk to anyone! — she yelled — Go away!

You sighed in defeat, letting go of the handle and backing away from the door. Hearing Lena sobbing softly broke his heart into a thousand pieces. This was supposed to be a time of joy and celebration, not sadness and tears.

— Is Lena in the room? — you heard Toto ask. Looking towards the entrance, he was standing with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, a worried expression on his face.

— Yeah.

— Were you able to speak to her?

— No — you replied, realizing he was walking towards the door — And I doubt she'll talk to you.

Toto stopped suddenly, turning towards you slowly.

— You think you know everything about Lena, don't you?

— I'm her mother, Torger — you said, crossing your arms.

— And I'm her father, Y/N.

— And that changes the fact that you know anything about her?

— She is my only daughter — he began to say.

— Which is a miracle — you muttered, being solemnly ignored by him.

— So, I’d like to think I know her pretty well.

You laughed mockingly.

— So tell me, Torger, what's her favorite color? Who is her favorite singer? What is her favorite dish? If you know your daughter, you should know this.

Toto let out a sigh.

— This is pathetic, Y/N.

—The only thing that’s pathetic is you playing dirty — you snapped — Pathetic for you to want to take my daughter away from me! My only daughter!

You expected an equally aggressive response to yours coming from Toto. He had always been hot-headed, which, along with your short temper, was a recipe for disaster. However, your ex-husband just shook his head, heading towards the bar in the corner of the large living room.

— Whiskey? — he asked, as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

You blinked, shocked.

— You can't be thinking about drinking in this situation...

Toto took the bottle and poured a generous dose. Then, glass in hand and leaning against the bar, he sighed.

— And is there anything else we can do considering our daughter is locked in her room and isn’t going to talk to either of us? — he asked, taking a sip of his drink and grimacing — Ugh, this needs some ice.

As your ex-husband turned back to the bar, you walked slowly over to the couch and sat down, heaving a frustrated sigh. The feeling you had was that you had completely failed, not just with Lena, who had high expectations for that trip, but with yourself, for not being able to control your own feelings towards your daughter and Toto.

— Want some? — he asked, holding the drink out to you. Staring at the amber liquid for a few seconds, you were sure this was a very bad idea. “Fuck it”, you thought, picking up the glass and taking a generous swig of whiskey.

— Ugh — you growled, as the alcohol burned in your throat. Sitting beside you, Toto smiled at your grimace.

— Bad, isn't it?

— Terrible — you replied — I thought there was only good stuff here.

— Me too — Toto said, chuckling — Even that Ottakringer we drank on the way back from the Hockenheimring that one day tasted better.

You laughed at the memory, the watery taste of the beer being a funny reminder of the years when you still looked at each other with something other than anger and resentment.

— Indeed — you muttered, taking another sip before returning the glass.

The silence stretched for long seconds, the only sound in there being the ice clinking on the crystal as Toto poured another shot. After taking a sip, he handed the cup back to you.

— Y/N?

— Hm? — you murmured, before drinking some more whiskey.

— I would never take Magdalena away from you.

Lowering your glass to rest on your thigh, your eyes met Toto's, which were filled with a sadness that was clearly not part of the drink's effect.

— You wouldn’t? — you asked softly.

— I would never be able to take her away from you, Y/N.

— So — you hesitated for a few seconds, pressing your lips together — Why do you want to take her to England?

Toto let out a long sigh.

— Because I feel like it’s the only way to try and fix some of my mistakes, Y/N — he said, his gaze locked on some middle point in the distance.

— Your mistakes?

— I always promised myself that I wouldn't be like my father, that I would do everything I could do right by my — Toto hesitated before correcting himself — By our children. And when Lena was born, I told myself I would do anything to make sure she had a happy life with us and… I screwed up.

You swallowed hard.

— I screwed up when I got in that car at the Nürburgring and insisted on making that lap record attempt. Niki was right, it was idiotic, and nobody cared about some silly GT car lap record. Honestly, I don't blame you for asking for a divorce after that, I would have done the same if it were me — he continued, running a hand through his hair — But it hurt, Y/N. It hurt to see you leaving with all that pain in your eyes. But, I accepted your decision and did exactly what my father did before he died…

— You mean, you becoming distant?

He nodded.

— I thought it would be best for you and Lena to be away from my sadness, my depression, but in the end, it wasn’t. She needed her dad, too, just like I needed mine.

You took another sip of whiskey, feeling your eyes sting with tears. Asking for a divorce had been the hardest decision you had ever made in your life, but you were convinced that you didn't belong there anymore. However, the truth is that you wanted to insist on Toto, insist on your love.

After all, your love for him was still there, sleeping inside your chest, but alive, begging you to let it out.

— So, your way of fixing your mistakes is by asking Lena to come live in England with you?

He took the glass of whiskey and drank the rest of the liquid.

— Not all of them, but some. I know I'll never be able to fix my mistakes with you.

— Have you tried, Toto? — you asked without hesitation.

— Tried what?

— Tried to fix your mistakes with me.

He set the glass down on the coffee table before looking at you.

— Do you want me to try, Y/N?

Your heart was beating heavily, pounding against the front of your chest.

— It's what I want most — you whispered.

Toto's hand slid towards your face, lightly caressing your cheek. With your eyes fixed on his, you matched the gesture by taking your hand to the back of his neck, while your mind took you to the night of your first kiss. On that occasion, the kiss had been calm, almost hesitant, the taste of wine dancing on your tongue as his scent invited you to dive deeper into him.

Facing him again, 15 years since the last time you had shared a kiss, the impression you had was that nothing had changed. The smell was the same. The man was the same. The invitation was the same.

And you accepted.

The first touch brought back memories of your other kisses. The happy kiss at the altar after being declared man and wife. The emotional kiss after you told him you were pregnant. The kiss that took place, with your daughter in your arms, after long and exhausting hours of childbirth. In all of them, the warmth that filled your chest was comforting and familiar, like approaching a campfire after a long time wandering in the cold.

It felt like coming home.

His fingers slid into your hair, tangling in the strands, while his tongue sought passage through your lips. Scratching the back of Toto's neck with your fingernails, you allowed him to savor you, the taste of him mixed with the resort's particularly bad whiskey. However, that was a minor detail at that moment.

What mattered was that you had finally found each other again.

— Y/N — Toto whispered, pulling away slightly from your face, breathing heavily — I…

Your fingers touched his lips in a silent request for him to not say anything. There was no reason to say anything more or hesitate any longer, not when you’d imagined this for so long.

This was inevitable, after so many times imagining what it would be like to try again every time you went to pick Lena up from the apartment Toto had moved into after the divorce, your gaze meeting the resignation in his expression every time you asked your daughter to say goodbye. It was inevitable to think of the sweet words he would whisper in your ear while watching his interviews on television, as well as the affectionate touch when you saw him gesticulating with his hands, while explaining something to the reporter.

As Toto leaned over your body, you allowed yourself to slide your hands under his linen shirt, feeling the firm muscles he had developed in the years after the divorce. Pulling the fabric up his torso, you quickly tried to undress him, which made him smile against your lips.

— You're still the same anxious little thing you always have been — Toto muttered, before slouching off his shirt and discarding it on the floor.

Then he dove towards your neck, nibbling ravenously at your skin, causing involuntary gasps to leave your lips, your body asking for more than just kisses and a well-positioned knee between your legs. You needed him like you were drowning and he was the surface.

However, when his fingers slid down the sides of your thighs, beneath your light summer dress, Toto pulled back, glancing back before meeting your inquiring gaze.

— What’s wrong? — you whispered.

— I thought I heard a door open — he replied softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes — And I don't know how good it would be for our daughter to see her divorced parents making out on a couch like two teenagers.

You smiled, bringing your hand to his face.

— You’re right. Besides, I think we're a bit too old for making out on the couch.

Toto laughed.

— Do you want to go to your room, then?

— Yes — you whispered.

Toto helped you to your feet and the two of you tiptoed to your suite. As Toto closed the door behind you, you busied yourself with undoing the knot of fabric at the back of your neck and sliding your dress down your body, bringing your panties with it. When Toto turned around and found you completely naked in front of him, he smiled. He walked toward you in slow steps as his eyes roamed over your skin like he was taking in all of the changes of your decade apart.

— It feels like our first time — he murmured, placing his hands on your hips.

You gave a small smile, as your mind transported you to that night in his apartment, where, after a few glasses of wine, you gave yourself to each other for the first time. It had been slow and romantic, with Toto insisting on learning every detail of your body to give you the pleasure you deserved.

However, you knew that statement was not entirely true. Since that night, your body had changed drastically, being pushed to the limit to bring your daughter into the world. You were no longer that young girl, but a mature woman, whose skin bore the marks of motherhood on your breasts, belly and hips.

— Well, the only difference is me.

He raised an eyebrow.

— You?

— I'm not the same person I was that night — you murmured, taking a hand to your belly. Then, with your finger, you traced the path of one of the faded stretch marks that seemed to glow against your skin, watching as his eyes were fixed on the movement of your hand — I've changed a lot since I had Lena…

Bringing one hand to your chin, he lifted your face so you could meet his warm, gentle gaze.

— And yet you're still beautiful. Do you know why?

— Why?

— Because those are marks of love, Y/N. Marks of our love, which gave us our beautiful daughter. And I love every single one of them — Toto said, before bringing your lips to his. The kiss was delicate, as were the steps he took towards the bed, his hands caressing your skin, as if he wanted to assure you that his words were true and that he, in fact, loved each of one of those marks, even if they made you feel old and inadequate at times.

When you felt your back land on the soft duvet, you opened your eyes again to find Toto still standing on the edge of the bed, quickly taking off his shorts. Seeing him stark naked in front of you made you allow an anxious gasp to escape your lips.

— All good? — he asked as he positioned himself between your legs, one hand busy pumping his own cock.

— Yes — you replied, your eyes fixed on the movement of his hand and the anticipation of feeling him inside you. Following his gaze, Toto seemed to remember something.

— Do you want to use a condom?

— Do you think we need it? — you asked, almost innocently. In a normal context of casual sex, you wouldn't go without some sort of protection. However, that wasn't just a casual fuck, but a reunion.

— Well, I didn’t bring any. Did you?

— No…

— Great — he murmured — I also had a vasectomy a few years ago, so I don't think we’re going to get in any trouble, or anything.

— I wouldn’t mind if we got into some trouble — you said quietly. Something about the idea of having another child with him made your skin tingle. Lena had always asked for a brother and you had always said no, stating that having one copy of Toto at home was enough for you. However, at that moment, you wished that you had a few more of him.

— I wouldn't mind either, Y/N — he whispered, as he positioned himself between your legs, his cock brushing your clit lightly — Not at all.

The pressure that accompanied the low growl that came out of Toto's throat had you rolling your eyes as a strangled groan escaped your lips. A warm wave ran over your skin, your nails digging into his skin as his dick settled inside you.

— Fuck — Toto said through clenched teeth, eyelids fluttering with pleasure.

You wanted to speak, but at the same time, no words came out of your parted lips. Raising your hands to his face, you pulled him against you, your lips against his in a slow, wanting kiss. That moment encouraged Toto to move his hips against yours, savoring the pleasure that coursed through your bodies.

The rhythm built almost instinctively, the strength of your fingers making him accelerate his thrusts against your pussy, the sound of your wetness joining your moans.

— Yes, yes, yes, Toto — you muttered under your breath, encouraging him to continue at that pace, feeling your muscles tense.

— I missed you so much, liebes — he growled, as he took his hand to one of your legs and pulled it higher, slightly changing the angle of your hips — So, so, so much…

— Me too, me too — you replied in a low voice, while pressing your heel against the base of Toto's spine. Your body begged for more, much more than just the pleasure he was giving you. You wanted his anger, his pride, his joy and his love. You wanted to become a part of him, the same way you wanted him to become a part of you.

As you felt his fingertips brush against your clit, you felt your whole body tense, your lips tightening in an attempt to stifle your moans. It was so much that your eyes filled with tears, but something inside you said that they weren't limited to that effort.

It wasn't just lust or lust anymore.

It was love. Pure, simple, and finally awake after so long.

It was with that thought and eyes finally open again, locked on Toto's, that you felt your body finally reach its climax, your lips letting out a groan before he kissed you, muffling the sound. Your legs shook as your nails dug into his shoulders as he took his last thrusts.

— Y/N, fuck — Toto growled before he came, followed by a primal growl, as if this was his way of claiming you for himself. And with the heat of his pleasure inside you, the certainty that you were his only grew. You had always been his.

Pulling his cock out of your pussy, your ex-husband collapsed next to you on the bed, breathing heavily. Staring at the ceiling in silence, something inside you wanted to feel guilt, while your muscles were still shaking with the aftershocks. However, you didn't feel any remorse or regret.

— Are you okay? — Toto asked you. Looking in his direction, you smiled.

— Yeah… You? — you whispered.

— I feel better than I have in a long time — he said, making you laugh — What?

— You sound like you haven't had sex in years.

— Well, it has been years since I've had sex with someone I loved, so…

The phrase made you turn your body towards Toto, resting your head on his shoulder. Something in the way he looked at you filled your chest with something completely different from anything you had felt until then.

Hope.

— Do you love me? — you asked softly.

— I never stopped loving you, liebes. Not even when I wanted to hate you for leaving. I can only love you. I don’t know how to do anything but love you — he replied, before kissing your forehead tenderly. And it was there, nestled in his chest, that you fell into a serene and, in a way, happy sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of knocking on your bedroom door.

— Mom? — Lena's muffled voice asked — Are you there?

Rubbing your eyes, you were about to respond when you realized you hadn't slept alone. The sound of the shower coming from the bathroom indicated that Toto had already woken up and, probably, that was what made your daughter knock.

— Yes, honey, I'm here — you replied, in an uncertain tone.

— Can I come in?

Suddenly your eyes widened, adrenaline rushing through your body as you scrambled to your feet, quickly looking for something to wear.

— No, I'm getting dressed!

— But you never…

— Wait a minute, my love — you shouted towards the entrance of the room, while picking up a robe that was hanging on one of the armchairs. Clutching the terry cloth against your body, you went to the door and opened a small crack — Hi, honey.

Lena was looking at you with a serious expression, her eyes still swollen from the tears she had shed the night before.

— Good morning, mom.

— Are you okay?

— Yeah, I am — she replied — I wanted to talk to you. Actually, I wanted to talk to you and dad, but I don’t know where he is.

You felt a shiver run down your spine. She definitely couldn't even imagine Toto was right next door, washing the remnants of sex and sweat from his skin in your bathroom.

— He must have gone to the gym or taken a walk on the beach — you tried to dismiss, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

— I don't know, mom, the living room is a mess — she said, looking at the room next door — There's a bottle of whiskey, some empty glasses, dad’s shirt is on the floor...

“Fucking hell, Torger, of all the times to not be so uptight about cleaning”, you thought.

— He must be hungover, like that time in Abu Dhabi — you said, causing Lena to smirk.

— That was terrible — she muttered.

— Indeed.

You stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

— Well, I'll let you finish your shower and then we'll see what to do. Do you want me to order breakfast?

— Yes, that would be great. Thank you — you replied, before smiling and closing the door, letting out a sigh of relief. Your daughter definitely didn't need to know that you had just slept with her dad, especially after almost 15 years since your divorce.

It was an unnecessary shock for that moment.

Opening the bathroom door, you saw Toto's silhouette through the fogged glass, his fingers buried in his dark hair as he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. You crept toward the shower, opening the door a crack to watch him, savoring the way the water ran down his body with your lower lip between your teeth.

Then, he opened his eyes.

— Good morning, liebes — Toto said, with a smile.

— Good morning.

— Was that Lena at the door?

— Yeah. She wants to talk to us, but she couldn't find you anywhere.

— I can't imagine why — he murmured, making you smile — Want to come in with me? I can wash your hair if you want.

Nodding, you took off your robe and stepped into the shower with Toto, feeling his warm, wet hands wrap around your waist. Smiling, you couldn't resist giving him a kiss, while the drops of hot water fell on your body.

— I love you, liebes — he said softly, his lips brushing yours.

— I love you too, darling.

He washed your hair practically silently, only speaking to ask you to step under the jet of hot water. While you were drying off, Toto asked you if you had any plans to get him out of your room without being seen by Lena. After a few minutes of discussion, you opted to split up, with you distracting her while he went back to his own suite to get dressed and pretend nothing had happened.

It looked perfect.

With your hair still damp, you left your room trying to ignore the tightness in your stomach. Quickly scanning the room, you found your daughter leaning against the glass railing of the balcony, her gaze lost on the horizon. Approaching slowly, you were thinking of asking about her plans for the day when she spoke up.

— I already ordered breakfast — Lena said, not looking at you.

— Oh, good — you replied — Thank you, darling.

More silence. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

— Look, my love, I...

— You're going to apologize for yesterday, aren't you?

— Yeah. I shouldn’t have acted like that, and ruined your night…

— Mom — Lena said, looking at you — It wasn't about ruining my night. The problem there was that you did exactly the opposite of what I asked you to do before we left home.

You pursed your lips.

— I know you hate each other and that you wish the other didn't exist, but you can't change the past, much less the fact that you had a daughter together.

— I know, my love…

— Then why did you make that whole scene at the restaurant?

— Because I don't want to lose you, Magdalena — you replied, in a low voice — You are my only daughter, the person I love most in the world and...

— Mom, you won't lose me.

— Are you sure? — you asked her, your voice cracking.

— Yes, I am. But, you have to understand that I grew up and that I can make my own choices, without you or dad deciding for me — Lena said, her tone of voice making her sound much older than she really was.

— And what did you decide? — a deep voice asked. Looking back, you found Toto standing at the balcony door, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

Lena smiled.

— I've decided I'm not going to decide anything here — she said — I'll go over my options when I get home, alone, without either of you two putting pressure on me.

— You know you don't have to…

— Mom — Lena interrupted you — I need to do this alone. I know you want to help me, just like dad does, but I have to decide things for myself, no matter how difficult they are.

Looking at Lena, you finally realized that you were no longer in front of the same little girl that you had put on your lap and taken away from the apartment where you lived with Toto, back in 2009. You were in front of a woman, who, in addition to love, you also deeply admired.

— It's okay, bébé — Toto finally spoke — It's always your decision. But, know that we will always be by your side, supporting you no matter what choice you make. Isn't that right, Y/N?

You hesitated, looking at your daughter with a tight lump in your throat. “Does it have to be that hard?”, you asked yourself.

— Mom?

— You know I'll always support you, Lena — you finally managed to speak — Even though it's terrible to think about being away from you, not being able to hug you, kiss you and tell you how much I love you whenever I want. I'm always by your side, my love.

She smiled, advancing towards the two of you and enveloping you in a tight hug. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to savor that moment, feeling the warmth of your daughter's arms and of Toto, who had run a hand down your back to bring you both closer to him.

Feeling him kiss your hair, you smiled.

You were home. Finally home.

#toto wolff #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #wlffog #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #toto wolff smut #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff angst #oneshotwlff

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gimmeyourlovepls · 10 months

Text

Trapped

paring: earth 42! miles morales x reader

warning: cheating, gaslighting, basically not a cute fic

summary: you find out miles is cheating on you, and with a heavy heart, decide to leave him, but he's not letting you go.

a/n: hey! sorry this is the first thing im contributing to this fandom, i have a really long story in my drafts that im still working onnnnn this piece of work is inspired by a fic i either saw on here or ao3, pls tell me if u find it so i can credit them ;-;

Cariño = Honey

¿Entiendo? = Got it?

"Thanks for coming, have a nice day!" The cahier said as you walked out of a bakery with a box full of cupcakes, along with some chocolates and other snacks you bought earlier. You were basically bouncing with joy, a massive grin present on your face.

Today was you and Miles' 2 year anniversary, and although there had been a couple of bumps on the way, you were happy that both of you were still together. You looked at your phone to check the time and saw that Miles texted you back.

Mi amor <3

You: happy anniversary!

You: i have a surprise for you but its not ready yet

You: I'll text you when its done then you can come over <3

Mi amor <3: aight see you soon princessa

Giggling, you walked over to Miles' apartment building and walked through the hallway towards his room, already searching through your pocket for the extra key he gave you in your bag. As soon as you found it, you opened the door as quiet as you possible could, which was hard as hell with all the stuff you were holding.

You pushed the door open with your feet and walked slowly, and it seemed like Miles didn't hear, you, because you heard no footsteps coming for you. Putting your stuff down on a couch, you walked around trying to find him.

As you neared his room, you started to hear noises that sounded like Miles and something else, you couldn't really tell. You still wanted to surprise him through, so you slowly pulled open the door.

"Miles please..." A girl who had never seen before was on YOUR man's lap, pressing kisses on his face and slightly grinding against him. "Calm down, cariño, I'll take good care of you soon," he said as he held that girl's hips and grinded her hips down with a groan.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you brought your hands over your mouth. You slowly walked backwards and slammed his door, knowing he would be able to tell he got caught, grabbing all your stuff, leaving his extra key that he gave you on a table and running.

Your legs carried you all the way home, though it was a far distance. You couldn't even feel the burn with how sad you were. As soon as you got to your house, you locked all the windows and doors, knowing Miles would try and get in. You just wanted to lay in bed and cry, but you knew you had one more thing to do.

Mi amor <3

You: dont fucking text me anymore, be happy with that girl.

You: by the way, happy anniversary :)

================================================

Scrolling on your phone, feeling sorry for yourself, and eating the snacks meant for you and your now ex was not how you thought your night would go, but the occasional funny video made up for it. You changed out of your nice outfit and wore your most comfortable pajamas (apart from Miles' shirts), stuffing chips into your mouth when you heard banging on your window. Your mom was home and asleep, but she wasn't that heavy of a sleeper, so you went to your window and pulled back the curtains.

"Ugh," you groaned as you saw who was standing behind the glass-pane. "I'm gonna keep knocking if you don't let me in." His voice was muffled, but you understood enough to unlock and open the window for him.

"Hey look-" He started, but you were NOT listening to his BS. "No Miles, you look. I have dealt with you for the past TWO years. Every time you have stared, flirted, or even made out with another girl, I have ignored it and forgiven you. I have NEVER cheated on you, I have even ignored all my male friends for you because you get so jealous. I'm tired Miles, and I can't with you. Please leave."

"Cariño-" Miles pleaded with you. "Don't call me that. That's what you called that girl you were smooching earlier. Go back to her and never talk to me again." You started pushing him towards the window, desperate for him to leave before you either started crying or beating the crap out of him.

"No, we aren't doing this shit." He pushed you backward until your back was against the bedroom door. "Miles, don't-" Your insults dissolved into air as he started to kiss you, the way he did at the beginning of your relationship, when you thought he still loved you. "I ain't leaving you, and there is no way your leaving me, ¿entiendo?"

You wanted to say no, but your heart still longed for him desperately, so you melted into his touch. He noticed your response and pulled back to pull you into a passionate kiss.

It didn't matter what you did, you were trapped, and Miles certainy wasn't letting go.

hey yall i was feeling silly and decided to writeeeeee hope u at least semi enjoyed it and that u have a good day/night :))))

(also if ur waiting for a part two, dont hold your breath, im literally having the worst writers block ever and can not. HOWEVER, if you have requests, please send them in so i can write thank youuuuuuuuu!)

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lolasimms · 1 year

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morning (or night) routine abby + reader and their toddler? 🫂🤍

I love this ask!!! Domestic Abby is my fav, so thank you anon!

Mornings with Abby and your son are always eventful to say the least. Unfortunately for you the both of them are early birds, so any hopes you have for sleeping in are thrown out the window.

Most mornings at 6 on the dot, your son is climbing into your shared bed with Abby. Crushing your limbs with his tiny feet, stepping on your stomachs and weaselling his way in between the two of you for cuddles.

Though his disruption annoys Abby sometimes, you know she appreciates that special time in the morning when the three of you are cuddled up beneath the weighted blankets enveloped in one another’s warmth.

“Momma?” You hear your son call out for Abby and no more than five seconds later you hear her groaning and mumbling.

“What is it honey?” Her raspy morning voice vibrates through the room.

“M’hungry.” He whispers and you hear the covers beginning to rustle, then feel a slight shift on the mattress.

“Alright then, let’s go get you breakfast.” You smile into your pillow, happy you’d get to enjoy a few more minutes of sleep.

You’re however taken by surprise when you feel a strong pair of arms grabbing you from the bed and then a fit of giggles coming from your son.

“You really thought we were gonna let you sleep in mommy?” Abby asks as she wraps her arms around your torso and you sleepily groan into her chest.

—

While Abby gets your sons teeth brushed and face washed, you do your five step morning skincare routine and then settle your hair. Finally once you’re done it’s your turn to take over for Abby while your she readies herself.

After 10 minutes of bargaining with your son on what to make for breakfast, he’s settled for French toast and fruit. While you’re plating up his food, Abby’s making her way downstairs in a hoodie and sweats. You smile as she leans down to kiss your son who’s sitting on a stool, antsy to get his breakfast.

After you place down his little plate and walk around the island to get started on your coffee, you feel Abby’s hands on your waist. She’s holding you against her chest and kissing down your neck causing you to sigh.

“Where’s my breakfast mommy?” You smile at her, and then down at your son who’s engrossed in his fruit salad. You’d never grow tired of mornings like these, happy as ever with the two of them.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader

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baek-at-it-again95 · 6 months

Text

Intro: Siren (Sailor! Hongjoong x Siren! Reader

Synopsis: Killing men is all you have ever known—it's what your species does. However, you have recently begun to question your purpose. When given the chance to save a human, your experience leads to new discoveries

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence.

Genres: fantasy au, angst, fluff?

A/N: Helloooo atiny babies! HAPPY HONGJOONG DAY! I was supposed to be writing a four page paper on the odyssey and ended up being inspired to write this. What can I say? LOL :) Thank you for so much love with the previous hongjoong series as well <3

You lie on a bed of rocks near the shore of your island, listening to your older sisters gossip and giggle amongst themselves. They always talk about rather useless matters. Your tail glistens beautifully, each obsidian-colored scale appearing shiny when the dense clouds decide to reveal the bashful sun. The waves that crash over the rocks create a refreshing mist that dusts your grayish skin. The voice of your eldest sister interrupts your relaxation.

"Y/N, you have not joined us to hunt humans in a while. Have you become weak?" she asks sharply. Your other sisters giggle.

"No," you answer quickly. "I...I have just been thinking a lot. What is our purpose? Why must we kill humans? We do not even eat them." Another one of your sisters places her hand over her chest, surprised.

"Why must we kill them? Oh, Y/N, we are just helping the world. Men are vile creatures. They cause every problem. They destroy the world and then destroy themselves. We are doing the gods a favor."

"They cannot all be bad." You argue, cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment. Are you wrong to think so?

"Do not be foolish, Y/N. If you get yourself into trouble, I can only say I warned you," your eldest sister speaks again. You avoid her eyes.

"Look!" Another sister points to your left and all of you follow her clawed finger. A large ship approaches fast from beyond. Speak of the devil. Your sisters gasp with excitement. "This will be fun!"

"Y/N, come with us this time. It will be good for you," the eldest says. You reluctantly push yourself off of your rock and slide into the water below. You follow behind all of them, consumed with guilt for what is to come.

With just a few strokes of your strong tails, you arrive at the ship. You station yourself a bit farther behind everyone else as usual. One of your sisters mischievously splashes the surface of the water with her tail, causing a commotion for the humans on board to peer at. Just as she desires, a man comes to the railing, pointing and calling over his crewmates. One by one, more men join him at the railing and look on in fascination. With all of your tails now hidden under the dark water, they must think you are mermaids or sea nymphs. They do not fear you as they should.

The last man to appear at the railing piques your interest. He is similar to you, the way he quietly positions himself farther from the others in the group. While the onlookers pay attention to your sisters, you make eye contact with the man at the end...and you can't look away.

He is the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.

You cannot possibly stay and watch as your sisters kill such a beautiful thing. Ridden with guilt, you disappear below the waves and swim to the other side of the ship.

Once you surface on the other side, you hear a voice from above filled with concern. "Miss!" You look up to see the same human, looking down at you again from the other side of the railing. Why did he follow you instead of watching your sisters making all the commotion?

It is then that you hear them. Your sisters begin to sing, their voices like honey but dripping with venom as they lure their prey. You panic as the human turns his head toward the other side of the ship. You cannot let him die. They can't kill him. You quickly begin to sing a soft melody yourself. The human suddenly turns back to face you, entranced by your voice. Despite refusing to sing for quite some time, it comes naturally, your voice as sweet as always.

You continue singing, luring him with your sweet melody until he plunges into the waves beside you.

***

You had pulled the unconscious human to the shore of your island, your strong tail allowing you to arrive quickly. You hurriedly laid his body on the pale sand and retreated back into the water to watch him from a safe distance. How will he act when he wakes up? Your sisters have always told you human men can be violent and unpredictable...but you have only seen them under the influence of your enchantments. Besides, this human did not look at you in that way.

After observing him from afar for some time, you begin to get antsy. The human does not stir, just lies peacefully, chest rising and falling slowly. You cautiously swim closer, looking for any more signs of movement. Pushing yourself onto the shore, you sit yourself next to him. Now you are able to take a longer look at him, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. There is sand in his soft, wet hair, and his pale skin is flawless. He is truly the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on.

"Hello?" you whisper meekly. No response. Curiously you draw closer to his face, touching his cheek slightly. When he does not move, you boldly trace your finger across his sharp nose and jawline, fascinated. "Pretty," you say out loud. A sound nearby causes you to look up, eyes darting around to look for any sign of a threat. When you don't see anything, you look back down at the human. His eyes are now slightly open, peering up at you. You gasp, scooting away from him.

"Wait," he says. His voice is angelic, so soft and light. He tries to sit up but holds his head, stifling a groan. You hurriedly move back to him, lightly touching his head in concern. Your eyebrows furrow together as you observe him, your thumb brushing over his temple gently. He stares at you in awe. "Did you...save me?" You look at him with wide eyes, nervous about talking to a human. You have only used your voice to sing for them, killing them one after another for as long as you can remember. You are afraid to hurt this one.

You decide to start with one word. "Yes." Your species has the ability to speak in any tongue in order to lure your prey with a song they can understand.

"I see, how—" You see his gaze land on your tail, eyes widening. "A mermaid?" he questions. Should you lie to him? You do not want him to fear you. Mermaids are a completely different species. Though you have similar anatomy, they have much more colorful tails, and they lack the ability to lure their prey with song. You must have taken too long to answer, because the man says, "Yes?"

"No." You look at him nervously before letting out another word above a whisper. "Afraid."

"Afraid of what?" You watch as his gentle hand comes to hover over yours. As his hand touches yours, you tense, but immediately relax at his warmth. Humans are warm. You forgot that they are, since their bodies soon turn cold after dying.

"Hurt."

"It hurts for you to speak?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. Maybe now you can try more than one word.

"No. I do not want to hurt you." He tilts his head.

"Your speaking hurt—oh." He glances at your tail again. "You must be a Siren."

"Yes," you reply, eyes wide since he figured it out. Humans are intelligent.

"Why have you not killed me?" At this, your heart sinks. Is he afraid of you now? Maybe it was a bad idea to even interfere with your sisters' plans. What will he do when he realizes they killed his shipmates? You think about your words carefully.

"Killing humans was all I knew for a long time, but I do not wish to hurt them anymore. My sisters think there is something wrong with me." The man's eyes search yours with a gentleness you've never seen. Your free hand comes up to touch his face again, just as you did when he was still asleep. "Beautiful," you say suddenly. The human touches your hand that traces his face, looking at you with the prettiest brown irises.

Why do you kill these human creatures?

He draws closer. "Y/N!" The piercing voice of your eldest sister calls from the water. You pull away from the human, struck with fear. Following the fear comes a sudden jealousy. You do not want your sisters to see him. He is yours. "Y/N, have you finally killed something? Let me get a look!" She laughs, swimming closer.

You cage his body protectively with your arms and hiss at her. "Mine!"

"Alright, alright. But I want to hear all about him later." She smiles, disappearing into the dark sea. You turn to the human, fear evident in his features.

"You are not safe here," you say. Your guilt returns, the uncomfortable feeling arising in your stomach. "You must go home. I will take you back to your abandoned ship, and I will pray to the gods that you arrive safely home."

He seems hesitant, but he agrees. "Thank you for saving me. You are very kind." As he thanks you, the realization that you would be parting from him completely sinks in. An emotion you have never felt before begins to overwhelm you. You touch your face, wiping at a warm liquid that falls onto your cheeks. You look down at your hands with confusion.

"They are tears," the human says. "It happens when you are sad." You look up at his now blurry face, feeling more tears drip down your cheeks. "It will be alright," he says, using his thumb to wipe them away. He stops suddenly, proposing an idea. "Come with me."

Leave with a human? Humans and Sirens cannot coexist...can they? No human has ever left this island alive. But you could change that. After all, you have grown tired of your life here. Killing men and listening to your dreadful sisters every day is not what you desire.

If you cannot leave with this human, you would rather die anyway.

"Yes." You use the back of your hand and wipe away the rest of the strange tears coming from your eyes. "I would like that."

#ateez au #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez reader insert #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong au #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong day

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aemnds · 11 months

Text

─ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

❛ ♡. gif credit.

★ ── modern!aemond comes home early to surprise his little wife.

◜ ♡ ⃗ ⎯⎯ [3:41 pm — aemond targaryen]

she had just finished cutting the strawberry, crème sandwiches into diagonal slices as the front door opened— revealing her beloved husband, aemond targaryen.

smiling, she hurried over to him, helping him remove his long, leather jacket, before bending down to untie and remove his black, combat boots.

once she placed both things neatly away, she returned to her patiently waiting husband and reached up on the tips of her bare, pedicured toes—which were painted pale, baby pink—and kissed his soft, pillowy lips -- humming at the minty flavor he always seemed to taste of.

“hello, my love,” she greeted him softly, after pulling away from him to continue preparing his lunch. she hummed softly as she worked, grabbing a handful of salted almonds and placing them into a tiny container for later to snack on.

aemond hummed, walking up behind her and wrapping his long, lean arms around her— pulling her back slightly so that she was snuggly pressed back against his hard, front torso— making her smile with happiness.

“my love, i need to finish preparing your lunch,” she says with a light giggle, feeling him bend down and press multiple kisses along the sides of her neck and collarbones, where he knew she was most sensitive.

“i’ve missed you,” he murmured, nearly whining as he lightly scraped his teeth against her thumping pulse point, before beginning to suck on her earlobe, humming in content at the delicious taste of her soft, silky skin.

she made a giggling sound, trying to pull away as she finished cutting a few slices of apple—without the skins—just as aemond preferred, before turning around to face him.

he towered over her, a small smirk on his lips as he bent his knees down to press his lips to hers, wrapping his strong arms around her waist tightly— possessively.

“hm.. my pretty, little wife— you are truly perfection,” he says lowly, before pressing his lips back against hers, moaning at the sweet, honeyed taste of her -- his tongue slipping inside of her warm, wet mouth.

“gods,” aemond groaned into the kiss, hearing her whimper and try to kiss him back with the same intensity as he was kissing her. “i am so lucky to have you— my sweet girl, my only love,” he tells her, his voice boarding on obsessive.

“i love you, i love you, i love you— you’re mine, all fucking mine… say it,” he demands, voice deep and nearly begging—gods, if aegon ever found out that he spoke to his wife this way, he’d call him a fucking simp and never hear the end of it.

she giggles femininely, flashing him a pretty, lovesick smile as she was so used to her husband’s possessive behavior over her, “i love you, aemond— i am yours,” she purrs, fluttering her eyelashes up at him innocently -- like a sweet, little virgin.

aemond smirked, leaning around her and swiping a long finger behind her into the homemade whipped cream she had made, pulling it back and sucking the sweetness into his watering mouth, a soft hum escaping him— tasting the sweet aroma of vanilla extract.

“delicious,” he purred, smirking down at her -- before he swiped another finger into the whipped cream, holding out his long, calloused finger near her plush, pink lips to give her a taste.

she gave him a look of surprise, raising an eyebrow at his teasing grin as she wrapped her lips around his finger, sucking the whipped cream off of his digit with a soft, breathy moan.

“and to think… you’ve made my favorite strawberry sandwiches too,” he says conversationally, his voice deep and husky as he looked down at her with a dilated, amethyst eye -- which was burning with desire.

“i have an idea,” aemond announces suddenly, watching his wife hungrily suck on his index finger, his eye darkening with lust.

aemond suddenly pulled his finger away, running the long, calloused fingers of his right hand over his wife’s exposed shoulder as he pressed her back more firmly against the large, kitchen countertop that he had built for her out of marble.

she gave him a curious look, doe eyes blinking up at him innocently and pink lips slightly parted in question. “yes, my love?” she asks him sweetly, her voice high-pitched and as sweet as the whipped cream she had made just for him.

aemond let out a soft sigh, letting his calloused fingertips brush down and over the thin, pink tank-top, admiring the little white flowers decorating the thin material that covered her perky breasts— her nipples hardening as he moved down closer and closer -- before tweaking a nipple between his long, deft fingertips.

he heard her gasp softly, her back arching into him and her heavy eyelids fluttering with lust, her cunt becoming more and more wet the more time he paid attention to her.

…he drove her absolutely wild.

aemond hummed lowly, giving a nod, “how about we put this delicious lunch away for later that you’ve made for me… oh, so lovingly— and how about i eat you instead, hm?” he murmured softly, though there was a hint of darkness to his voice as he began to grind his hardening cock into her lower belly, making her whimper pathetically for him.

she gasped softly, doe eyes wide and blinking repeatedly, before nodding eagerly in agreement, already starting to put the lunch away for later consumption for when they were both hungry after their… activities.

aemond happily trailed after his little wife, watching as she placed the food away neatly in the refrigerator -- the front of his hard, clothed torso pressed firmly against her back.

he started pressing ravenous kisses down the right side of her delicate neck once again— enjoying the sight of the purple blemishes he’d made last night -- while sucking and biting the smooth skin as if his wife was a sweet, forbidden fruit made specifically for him.

she knew how aemond could get -- her husband could become nearly frenzied— practically a beast when it came to her, and it seemed she was in for a long afternoon of orgasm after orgasm, as he whispered hotly that he wished for nothing more than to feast on her sweet, little cunt.

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neo404 · 1 month

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Im gonna try and come up with some younger brother!Sturniolo prompts but they will most likely be more triplets and little brother based and not just nick and little brother based if thats okay

An example would be like the triplets come back home to Boston to find that their younger brother has hit a growth spurt and is now taller than all of them.

Let me know of request like this would be okay.

( i have really been enjoying your writing over the last few days since i have found you account. Keep up the good work)

Grown up.

Summary: your big brothers (Matt, Nick and Chris) are coming back to Boston for a week to spend it with their family. They get a big surprise when their little brother is not so little anymore.

Tw: cursing.

‘’Honey!’’ mom screams from the living room. ‘’Did you clean the boys rooms like I asked you to?’’ I come out of my room and into the living room with her.

‘’Yes mom.’’ I smile at her. ‘’I’m so exited to see them, I have so much plans and games for us.’’

‘’Aww, I’m so glad honey, it makes me so happy to see all of you together.’’ Mom hugs me and plays with my hair.

‘’You are so tall now; do you think you are taller than your brothers?’’

‘’Maybe just a bit.’’ I smile in her arms and then hear a car honking outside. Dad arrived with the boys.

‘’Gosh, they are here already. Go, go, hide.’’ I run to the kitchen to scare them, a little prank me and my parent planed. I hear the door opening and my brother voices greeting mom and I imagine hugging her and all that stuff.

‘’Where’s the little rascal?’’ says Chris.

‘’Who? Your brother?’’ my mom says.

‘’Yep. Where is the little minion?’’ Nick asks and I try not to laugh.

‘’I thought he went with you dad to pick y’all up.’’ I hear them all say no.

‘’Maybe he fell asleep.’’ Matt says, that sound like something I would do. I hear their footsteps approaching the kitchen, and when they enter, I jump and scream as loud as I can.

‘’AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!’’ they screamed even harder than me.

‘’WHAT THE FUCK!!’’ ‘’HOLY SHIT!’’ I don’t even know who screamed what, they all jumped and I started laughing.

‘’What is wrong with you kid? You almost killed us.’’ Chris says with a hand on his chest.

‘’Hi, welcome home.’’ I smile from ear to ear to them and hug the 3 of them.

‘’Hi… what a nice welcoming.’’ Nick mutters.

‘’That’s not right…’’ Matt says. ‘’Kid, stand up straight.’’ He pats my back and I do, stranding in front of them.

‘’I can’t believe it…’’ Nick says. ‘’HE’S TALLER THAN ME!!’’

‘’WHAT ARE YOU FEEDING HIM???’’ Chris says.

‘’I can’t believe this…’’ Matt whispers.

‘’Come on, come on.’’ Mom enters the kitchen. ‘’Let’s get your things to your rooms so we can have lunch as a family.’’ He pushes them outside the kitchen.

‘’What are you feeding him? seriously, I’ll have to start eating that.’’ Chris ‘whispers’ to mom.

‘’Nothing special honey, just home-made food made with lots of love.’’

‘’See Chris, this is because your diet is based on pepsis’’ Matt playfully pokes Chris arm.

‘’No fighting before lunch, go to your rooms. Hurry!’’ they all nod and go to their rooms. Mom turns around and looks at me. ‘’I love seeing my boys together.’’ She hugs me around the waist and I rest my head against hers. ‘’you really grew up a lot since they last saw you in person.’’

‘’I know. This will be a nice week.’’ I smile at myself.

#matt sturniolo and younger brother reader #chris sturniolo and younger brother reader #nick sturniolo and younger brother reader #younger!sturniolo

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c0wb0yenthusiast · 5 months

Text

While you were Sleeping

Part II

Word count : 1.3k (just a short one to get you all prepared 🫣 I definitely wasn’t feeling lazy)

Summary : Christmas Eve with the Hotchners! You’re getting to know a bit about them and are beginning to fit in with the family. Even if Aaron seems to be questioning you every second.

A/N : I’m actually so sorry it’s shorter than the first part but I hope you all can still enjoy this, if you have any prompts or suggestions that you think would be really cute for this ongoing series I’d love to hear it! Just comment below or PM me if you want <3

Taglist : @rousethemouse @lunaoieoie @angelmather1 @barbwirewalk @jxvipike

(Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)

“Oh, that’s just Y/N, honey. Sean’s fiancée.” Mrs Hotchner adds, whispering into his ear while still hugging him. She says it like it’s common sense; oh, here’s the fiancée we’ve never met.

Aaron cocks a brow, throwing another suspicious glance at you before presenting his mother with a small present.

She grins up at him and kisses his cheek excitedly, “Aaron, you shouldn’t have!”

“It’s Christmas, mother. I had to.” He seems genuine. His tone seems to soften when speaking to his - presumably - mother.

Aaron.

It’s the Aaron they were talking about at the hospital.

In your mind, it seems to be much more of a rebellious name in comparison to what you’re being face with right now.

Polished, pressed and perfect; his suit doesn’t have a fold out of line. Everything seems to be tailored to fit just right - his cuffs were neither too short nor too long, his buttons were sewn on firmly unlike the ones hanging onto their threads on your jacket.

He’s not intimidating, you try to convince yourself.

Your feeble attempts to catch his attention and wave aren’t noticed as he’s too busy being coddled by his mother and dragged inside.

He doesn’t seem to mind it, though. It looks more welcomed instead, like he’s been waiting for his all holiday.

As Mrs Hotchner is just about to shut the front door, she turns to look at you.

“Y/N? You’ll want to come inside soon, dear. I heard it’s going to start snowing soon enough!”, she smiles, beckoning you inside right now instead.

You comply meekly, not wanting to insult her and also since you’re not intending to become a popsicle.

The door clicks behind you, blocking off any heat that wants to escape from this absolute dream of a house.

Everywhere you look, there’s some sort of subtle decoration or rich furniture. It’s like you’re being lured in, ‘stay with us, Y/N. We’re the functional household you could’ve never dreamed of.’

It’s definitely not working as you drape your scarf over the coat rack and sink into the nearest armchair.

It seems to hold you perfectly, encasing you in soft, cuddly goodness as you try to hide your surprising comfort concerning this antique armchair.

Everything is telling you to stay, live out your life as Sean’s fiancée and not think about the consequences that will eventually catch up to you.

But, you’re somewhat sane as there’s still the little voice of reason telling you to be wary.

Especially of Aaron.

He greets everybody in their own special way. You can already tell he’s well-liked from the way he laughs and pats his dad on the shoulder.

He doesn’t seem like much of a happy guy from what you first saw, but this isn’t exactly the most predictable day you’ve had.

You can only sink further into the armchair as they share their gifts, laughs and joy with one another in excitement of Christmas Eve.

Everyone seems to have bought Aaron a present, and he’s seem to done the same thing.

“Here, Todd.” He hands out a present to the younger man, chuckling at the gleam in his eyes.

He shakes it, but gets a critical glare from Aaron and falters before placing it next to the tree.

It’s like you’re in a film; a big happy family curled up by the tree, sharing laughter and jokes like usual.

You’re caught off guard when Mrs Hotchner hands you a present.

“Here you go, honey.” She smiles, urging you to take it.

You hesitantly accept the box, looking down at it and trying to hide your shock. How did they come up with this so fast?

“Santa has his ways, doesn’t he?”, Mr Hotchner grins.

“Yeah.. sure does..” you mumble, smiling back at them and tracing your fingers along the ribbon tied around it.

Time seems to fly as the festivities continue; it almost seems like they’re compensating for Sean’s ‘accident’ today. However, it was getting far too late for your liking and as much as you loved being around the family already, you were prepared to drive back to your cold, dull apartment and go to bed.

You can’t seem to find a moment where the energy stills and you can bid farewell to everybody, so you begin to rise out of your chair and twirl your car keys in your hand.

Mrs Hotchner immediately notices, following you outside into the hall.

“Y/N?” She inquires, looking up at you with concern. She glances at your keys, then back up at you.

“O-oh.. I’m just.. I was gonna.. it’s really-“

“It’s too dark! You shouldn’t drive in that sort of atmosphere, sweetheart, it’s very dangerous.” She adds with a certainty, nodding and patting your back now.

You’ve already grown to like her motherly nature, but now you’re in a bit of a situation.

“Where would I sleep? I- I don’t want to be a bother..”

“Nonsense! You’re practically family, even if Sean didn’t let us know about you yet. Why don’t you settle down here for tonight, have some breakfast - my treat - and leave in the morning?”

You may have had no choice, but it wasn’t a bad thing for you - they genuinely seemed to like you.

You hoped Sean was as accepting as his family.

“Okay.. thank you.” You nod your head tentatively, smiling and unbuttoning your jacket now. A sigh of relief escaped your mouth, possibly content knowing you didn’t have to be alone for Christmas.

“Lovely, dear. It’s so late already! I’ll go pick out some blankets for you.”

The festivities had finally ended; everyone was either leaving or getting ready to go to sleep.

You were also sorting yourself out, even in borrowed pajamas that Mrs Hotchner had so happily lent you. They were frilly, pink and surprisingly soft and you weren’t one to complain.

As you left the bathroom, your clothes folded up and held against your chest. The house was dead silent and dark, the only light visible were the string lights scattered around the place.

Your feet pattered against the mahogany flooring nervously, trying to retrace your steps to the living room. You’d only reached the hall when a sudden whisper almost made you drop your clothes.

“They’re a lot at first, huh?”

It’s Aaron.

He’s sitting on the steps, looking at you expectantly in the dimmed lighting. He’s also clad in pajamas, seeming to have gotten more comfortable.

He’s leaning against the stair railing, waiting for an answer.

“Oh- oh, yeah- I mean no, not in a bad way. I think they’re all great.” You seem to stumble over your words as they charge out of your mouth clumsily. This is probably the most you’ve said this whole night.

“They all love you so far. But I’m not convinced yet.” He adds, chuckling wearily.

You don’t know whether to laugh or break out in a huge mess and confess the truth. You choose to muster an awkward laugh.

“I think you’ll get used to me.”

“I seem to be already. I just wonder why Sean didn’t introduce us sooner.”

“Yeah… I know.” You want to leave, grab your keys and go home now. Aaron is really trying to get under your skin, and it could be working.

“Living room is on the left. Good night, Y/N.”

And with a sigh, he gets up and leaves you. The stairs creak quietly as he ascends to his bedroom.

You’re left staring at his blurry silhouette limply.

Does he like you? Should you be worried?

Has he already completely doubted you?

You try to shrug off all these questions - he could be trying to get you mixed up, play mind games and twist your perception.

Obviously he could just be protective of his brother.

Lying on the sofa with a thick blanket draped over you while hugging your pillow, you try to will yourself to sleep in this new environment.

#fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #thomas gibson #while you were sleeping

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izvmimi · 5 months

Text

cw: fluff. teacher!reader.

Just moments after an extended reprise of 'happy birthday' that just barely gets your student to crack a smile, you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Reflexively, you pull away from your crowd of students, slipping through the Inumaki clan members that look at you with curiosity to make your way to the garden. Your students haven't noticed the exasperated look on your face, but if they did, they would know it could only be one person contacting you right in the midst of celebration.

“What, Satoru?” you ask in a hushed tone in the hallway. Your voice is stern, but not too stern, as you fail to ever really be mean to him, no matter how hard you try.

Satoru practically whines on the phone before he speaks, and your frustration only mounts. After all, you do feel a little bad for banning him from attending a party where all of Jujutsu Tech and more is present, including his own students, but after hearing Inumaki’s plea this is the only solution.

“There is no way he can still be upset. Can’t I come? Please? I’ll just teleport in, and I have an incredible gift and-”

“No.”

You can practically hear him frown on the other end of the line, and your overly soft heart nearly breaks for him before you re-steady himself. No man has ever died from not being invited to a party.

“If you have a gift, you can leave it outside of the premises and I’ll bring it in, and maybe he’ll consider inviting you in. That’s all you can count on at this point.”

He blows air from his nose, amplified by the sound of the phone receiver.

“Shouldn’t there be a law that states you can’t bully your teacher like this?”

“You’re not his teacher,” you quip.

“I might as well be!”

You sigh. “Let me know when you bring your gift by, and I’ll come get it. Bye, honey.”

He replies with defeated sounding kissy noises, which on their own is an abomination itself, and you hang up. When you turn to return to the event and get yourself a slice of cake, you’re startled by one of your most unintentionally nosy students who leans on the entryway her arms crossed, a smug look on her expression as though she’s caught you red-handed.

Which she has. Technically.

“Was that your boyfriend?” she insists.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you reply in the same tone. You continue walking and she nearly twirls out of your way, keeping pace with you, a big grin on her face.

“Are you gonna see him? How come he’s not here following you around?” she stops, then puts two and two together. “Did you say he can’t come?!”

You give her a look, and she pouts.

“Toge probably doesn’t care. Plus Gojo is now old news anyway, he’s shriveled up, now he’s just some white haired really strong guy. Kinda like a creepy old man.”

You sigh loudly.

“Don’t talk about your teacher like that.”

“You’re my teacher, not him.”

She’s also impossible.

“Let’s focus on your classmate today, okay? This is exactly what Toge was talking about.”

Your student looks surprised for a moment, as if you’ve laid a sudden impossible truth on her and then she nods.

“Wow, good point.”

—

You’ve had more than a slice of Inumaki’s birthday cake, thankful that there were no onigiri ingredients involved, by the time Gojo messages you again to come out and receive the ‘incredible gift’. You make sure this time to clear out any onlookers, including your nosy second-year, and disappear to the location Gojo signals, finding a box large enough that even a particularly annoying, long-limbed human can sit inside.

You scoff loudly.

“Satoru, get out of this box.”

Muffled, he insists in a high voice, “No, no, let me in.”

You growl and he peeks out, then frowns.

“Fine.”

He makes his way out of the box while you cross your arms and tap your foot. He’s practically a walking cartoon, but you tolerate him all the same. Gojo hands you a pristinely wrapped gift, and pouts.

“It’s the latest iPhone.”

You tilt your head. It is a kind gift, but you wonder.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have one of these?”

“Even if he does, this one has my personal phone number in it first so…?”

You give him a look but his grin and thumbs up remains steadfast. You sigh, reaching your hand out for the phone.

“Okay.”

Gojo bats his eyelashes as you take the phone from him, hands in his pockets.

“I still can’t come in?”

“Only if he says so,” you remind him. He nods.

“Fine.”

Then he points to his cheek, bending at the waist. You immediately know what he’s getting at, feeling your face burn in embarrassment.

“Before you leave.” he adds, and you shush him, looking around quickly. A quick kiss, and then you practically scurry back to the party, and he grins as he watches you leave.

#based on kendy’s lovely headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #daydreams: jjk #mimi’s notes

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Note

It was hard to just pick one for Shuri but this is what I shall start with 😮‍💨

🖋️ when the other holds onto their waist briefly as they're passing by and it just send chills down their spine + Shuri

I missed writing for my wife and I won't lie, this makes me very happy. — main masterlist | 🏷️: pining, fluff, flirting. [WC: 1.7k]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˗ˏˋ꒰ why don't you stay here tonight꒱

She made it easy to call her Your Grace.

That's all Shuri was. Graceful. Whatever the situation may be—whether it was in her happiness, her anger, her cleverness; even in her cockiest moments, Shuri kept her poise.

During the celebration of seven years since the rebirth of the Heart-Shaped Herb, Shuri, or as you always called her, Your Grace, does something she’s never done before. A new step in this well-rehearsed dance you two have had since you met at the UN Conference seven years ago, and it sends you into a frenzy. If rumors were to be believed and the Panther had the ability to hear even the slightest shifts in people’s heartbeats, you were doomed.

One single touch, and you’re faced with the side of you that never sees the light: speechless.

Surprised.

The drop-in is almost theatrical, but you’ve grown to love it.

Her Majesty does it very rarely—only in occasions that are truly special does she drop from the sky like a comet, landing on her feet like the Panther she is, but you eat it up every time, with your bare hands, licking the tip of your fingers.

Certainly, she knew how good it looked.

After, when the party’s in full swing and she’s changed into her formal attire — a gorgeous and intricate white suit of three-piece, where none of them are like the traditional cuts of a suit. Some parts are adjusted to hug her body tight and perfectly, while others flow effortlessly behind her.

When she’s done with most of the small talks around the oval room the party’s taking place, you’re nursing your second glass of the exquisite drinks they prepared.

Shuri finds you leaning against the balcony of the bar, and you feel her presence before you hear her voice.

“So you found a flight.” That’s her introduction—a short nod to the last text messages you two shared a few hours ago.

You turn around, smiling already, and you use a slow nod as gateway to gather your thoughts at her proximity. “I had to. The Queen of the most powerful nation on Earth said she’d revoke my journalism rights within her borders if I missed the party to celebrate her biggest feat, so.” It had nothing to do with how much you missed her perfume. This perfume—the sharp and woody scent of something uniquely Shuri, mixed with an aphrodisiac smell you would swear in court existed only for her, and that lingering layer of honey she left behind every time she passed.

Shuri extended her hand and you shook it, happy to have the start of your usual dance with her.

In the seven years you two knew one another, the dance had been perfected.

At first, you and Shuri only shared extended, polite jabs and jokes above the heads of people who deserved it. After a year or so of that, you exchanged phone numbers. Another year into that and you were granted a special entry into Wakanda’s borders, and the exclusive right to interview Queen Shuri Udaku in all matters that regarded Wakanda, the Avengers Initiative or anything that was not of this Earth.

It was a lot.

Her smiles certainly made it easier.

After a few minutes of more small talk and light-hearted jokes, someone interrupts—a Dora Milaje.

She tries whisking Shuri away, and usually, this is where she parted with you—the woes of admiring someone so unattainable as herself were these.

Limited time.

Never any privacy.

But—”tell him that he can wait, Ayo. I’m having a nice talk. The first in weeks, if I’m being honest. Can’t I enjoy it?”

Ayo, as confused as you, looks between Shuri and you, nodding after a couple of times. “It is you party, My Queen. Enjoy it as much as you’d like. I’ll find something to entertain him.”

And with that, Ayo walks away, leaving you two to the bubble you’ve created around each other once again.

“So—you were talking about how the implants could help them with their reading comprehension skills. Go on.” Shuri grabs the glass and sips, looking up at you expectantly.

You have to open and close your mouth a couple of times to get anything out of it.

It comes out stuttered before your mind changes gears and remembers how to think again.

She’d blown off people and situations to speak to you before—that was normal. You two were… friends. But—in a public gathering? A national celebration, one that had not only Wakandians, but also the exclusive ring of international connections who were allowed into these lands? You were pretty certain you’d seen Captain America walking around not even twenty minutes ago, and you were certain that one on the other side of the party was Carol Danvers, and yet, here she was.

Shuri listened with the attention of someone who had nowhere else to be.

This was… unexpected.

A rare move, but one that could still be found in the dance of your mind.

She had done this before.

In Versailles, two years ago, Shuri ditched the meeting to pull you aside and give you a tour of the place once you’d said you had never been before. You two ended up in a random roof smoking the best weed of your life, speaking of loss and rebirth.

You still dreamt about that night.

About how close you two had been, and how much your hands were clammy with sweat the whole time due to the proximity.

You lose yourself in the conversation a couple of times, too distracted by the gold rings on her fingers, the buzzcut that got in her last trip to Brazil with those razor lines and, of course, the glimmer of her technology on her arms.

She’s talking about poems now, and how much she enjoyed your last recommendations when it happens.

“I think I liked it,” she said. “She knows how to write in different ways. I liked your favorite one a lot.”

“Siehl’s got a way with words,” you agreed.

She took a deep breath, and then, as if doing so was normal and not a certain path to re-arrange your insides into outsides, she quotes the poem in her sultry, gorgeous voice, which had smoothed out since she started speaking a lot more. “In this story, you have claws. In this story, happily ever after has bite marks in it. In this story, you are free and terrifying. In this story, you get away. In this story, you bleed. Iin this story, you survive.”

All of your breath is gone, and your mouth has run dry by the time she says ‘survive’ with the life-knowledge of more than just her decades of life.

“Is that you have that tattoo?” She asked, pointing over at your left arm.

You look down at where her fingers pointing even though you know what’s in it. “I—yeah.” The girl in your tattoo had a bitten book, her jaw is drenched in blood and she looked victorious. It was your favorite.

“It’s my favorite.”

Goddamn it. You could barely look at her. “Mine too.”

“I’m glad I recommended you Ísis. She’s a great artist.”

This time, you looked up, only to find her eyes already on yours. “I’m waiting for the day you’ll get yours.”

“I still haven’t decided what I want. I want too many things, I guess.” Shuri scoffed. “Too much.”

“They’re a big step, but you’ll know it when you know it.”

“What if I’m scared of needles?” Her question came accompanied by a shit-eating grin.

It made you smile, too, cheeks heating up at the sight of Shuri’s gorgeous smile. “I think you’ll live, Your Grace.”

“I might not.”

You laughed, because it was a laughing matter. “I’m sure one of your well-trained soldiers could protect you from feeling all that pain alone.”

“What if I want you to do it?”

It does its work—it traps you on the spot, and by the look on her face, it’s exactly what she wanted.

Something that had been catching her eye behind your shoulders pulls her gaze again, and Shuri looks back at you with double the determination.

“I’ll go tomorrow if you tell me you’ll hold my hand the whole time.” Nothing in her tone says ‘this is a joke’, and you have to swallow down a knot to answer her.

“They might be a little… sweaty. I get—second-hand nervousness. Not so comfortable.”

“Of course it is. It’s your hand. Better than feeling needles pricking into me all alone.”

“Well, in that case…”

“You’ll come?” Shuri’s smile widens.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I? I’m not sure even what day is it tomorrow, but if I had any plans, now I don’t anymore.”

That gets a little chuckle out of her, and Shuri nods at you. “Okay. That’s perfect.” She looks over to somewhere on your back again, and sighs. “I think my General’s trying to warn me in a polite way that I’ve been here for too long and I need to go mingle. But I’ll be back soon—”

then, she does it.

Shuri breaks the seven-year long dance you two had of talk talk talk talk into your ears were filled with each other’s voices and your chests were swimming with other’s words, idioms, syncrascies, and never touch, by passing by you and squeezing your waist.

She leans in to whisper in your ear.

“There are two secret doors here that lead to top of those arches outside. The view is beautiful and the sun is setting in forty six minutes.”

And then, she leaves, taking all of her heat with her, but letting her hands linger on your body for as long as they can.

Goosebumps rise in her absence, originating from the place her hand touched and spreading all over your body.

Shuri touched you over your clothes, and you could swear your skin was on fire either way.You know an invitation when you hear one, and your eyes start searching the minute you remember how to think a coherent thought. However long that takes.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ* . join my Fireplace celebration. * | send me mail 💌

#usernexusnyx #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x you #shuri fluff #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku imagine #shuri fanfiction #shuri fic #shuri imagine #shuri headcanon #shuri drabble #shuri udaku fluff #shuri udaku x yn #letitia wright x reader #nyx10fireplace.ೃ࿐#shuri udaku x y/n

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