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reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Note

NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵

A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...

Word Count: 3k

#127: "I can taste myself on you."

#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."

Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...

Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI

Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!

You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery.

You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him.

Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane.

It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.

You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester.

You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week.

To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes. He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention.

“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him.

“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk.

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again.

“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right?

You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class.

“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you.

“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him.

“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.

“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession.

“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness.

“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut.

“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain.

“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.

“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?”

“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations.

“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you.

“Yes.”

“Because you want to…fuck me?”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before.

“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible.

“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth.

“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness.

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement.

“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened.

“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing.

“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster.

“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch.

Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor.

His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him.

“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact.

“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations.

“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.”

Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck.

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan.

“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before.

“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core.

“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down.

“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now.

“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.

“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks.

When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep.

You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands.

Miss Y/N,

Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you.

- Spencer Reid.

P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds smut #professor spencer reid

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jadedwoman · 7 months ago

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(lengthy, wrote this over two days, horror, needles, cowgirl, body modification)

As you wake up at the temple, everything seems normal at first, servants traversing the halls with dumb grins on their face, new guests visiting and clearly confused by what's happening, even the same smell of sex and worship is in the air. But as you reach the main room for worship, something is immediately off. Sitting on the throne isn't the Eldritch goddess you devoted your life too, instead it's a somewhat shorter robot girl, casually sleeping as you approach.

When you get close enough, you see me quickly awake, eyes begining to glow once more as I look you up and down, yawning as if suggesting I was about to fall asleep again. As you look at me, you can't help but feel anger build, the arrogance of me sitting in your goddess's throne, it's almost too much. Eventually, you start trying to tell me to get off, demanding I show the goddess proper respect, but in response I just close my eyes once more and pretend to snore.

After a few minutes back and forth, I realize you're not going to leave me alone, slowly jumping off the throne and walking over to you, my body still somewhat short and cute when I finally reach you. With a giggle I finally seem to recognize what you were saying, just giving a casual answer back, "oh, I'm still her! Or well..she's still me? It's kinda confusing...we kinda just switch forms and shake it up a bit, but it's been so long with each form we're practically our own people," I speak as if making complete sense.

At first you don't believe me, clearly thinking I'm just a heretic impersonating your goddess, but when I switch an arm into a tentacle, you quickly end up convinced. With another laugh, I move closer, a hint of anger in my eyes as I speak, "now, let's talk about how one of MY servants had the audacity to question MY authority, okay?~" it's obvious I'm not asking a question, my wires coiling around your body, seemingly effortlessly lifting you up as I carry you to a room you hadn't seen before.

In the room, there's a wide array of technology, far more advanced than you've seen before, a few robot bodies standing on one side of the room while complex machines sit against the other. As we enter, I finally let you down, sitting you comfortably in a chair, that then immediately locks cuffs around your wrists and bonds your feet together. Sitting there, you can feel a thin wire start creeping up your body, starting under your shirt before sliding up out through the hole for your neck and grazing by your ear, making you shudder in response.

Eventually, you see two more wires approach your chest, thin needles in the ends of them. Slowly, they prick your nipples, seeming to inject them with something as you feel them begin to swell, aching and growing even more sensitive. As your chest grows, I simply watch patiently, letting you get bigger and bigger breasts before it simply stops, but unlike the growing, the sensitivity remains.

The other wire, the one by your ear, finally slides into it, eventually connecting with your brain as a pulse of electricity hits you. Each pulse, another memory being lost, completely forgotten as it seems more and more like you've always been here. Eventually, you don't remember anything else but the room, everything else blanked out as I start to lean over you.

With slow, mechanical motions, I start swaying my chest side to side, my own breasts seeming to have gotten bigger at some point as you just watch them bounce and sway. As you stare, you hear me mutter words, unable to fully make them out with your mind so focused on my tits. Eventually, you can't help but feel glad your boobs are so big, feeling like that's all you've ever really wanted, big fat tits~

Soon, I begin talking about more than just your tits, talking about how dumb and obedient you're feeling, how natural it would be to be a pet, how much pleasure it would bring you. As it goes on, you let out a small yet audible moo, my words quickly stopping as I look at you, "aww~ someone wants to be a cow huh?~" I say in response, one more prick hitting your chest as you suddenly feel milk start to leak out.

With your chest swollen and leaking, it gets easier to start craving release, your moos getting more and more frequent as you get completely freed from the bindings, still not even moving as you just get hopelessly obsessed with being milked. Eventually, I pick you up and start dragging you along with me, taking you out to the front of the temple.

Outside, you see a few stalls in a medium sized building and are quickly ushered in. Inside, there's rows and rows of cow girls, all mooing and moaning as they're milked. You even see some cow boys too, and a few other hucows who seem to be just enjoying the environment instead of being milked. When I bring you in, I quickly set you up on a stall, attaching two cups to your breasts.

Flipping a switch, suction begins to pull on your aching nipples, milk finally getting leaked out rapidly. As I listen to you moo and fully embrace your new cow life, I give one more giggle and whisper by your ear, "I'll be sure to come back and reverse this, eventually, see you in 100 years~" as you get left alone with all the other cows to live out the next few years in unimaginable bliss~

#trans nsft #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #brainwashing #dubc0n #tentacles #robokink #huc0w #petpl@y

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reginyani · 2 months ago

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College Lecture | s.reid x reader

summary: the behavioral analysis unit are guest speakers for your college class, but one particular agent catches your eye

cw: season4!spencer, reader is flirtatious, year of 2009, possibly use of inaccurate technology for the year, college reader, usage of Y/N

wc: 864

authors note: the only way to promote fics on tumblr is to reblog, so please do so if you enjoyed! once again very short, but once again i'm very tired..

It was a cold winter morning, with snow falling on the college campus when Professor Coleman made a surprise announcement. The Behavioral Analysis Unit was going to visit the class that day. It would be a special lecture, with an example case that the students could interact with. You never expected to be in the same room with the highest unit in the FBI, let alone receive a lecture from them. With your interest in serial killers and forensic psychology, this lecture was a dream come true.

The hall buzzed with anticipation, and all the students were eager to finally have interesting guest speakers. As the lecture began, the team of agents introduced themselves. The unit chief, SSA Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, and Dr. Spencer Reid...

You were drawn to him. The way he spoke was shy and awkward, but his intelligence more than made up for it. Every time words left his mouth, you were captivated, almost as if he was hypnotizing you. Although the attractive agent was a distraction, you tried focusing on taking notes and listening to everyone speak.

You had many questions about the subjects and the example case, but you sat back and listened, observing the dynamics of the special guests. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the lesson, your mind and eyes kept wandering back to Spencer Reid.

The class ended in a blur. Everyone crowded around, hoping to catch a moment with the highly skilled profilers, which they did, but you stayed seated. When the students finally cleared out, you stood up, your plan now set in motion.

As Spencer tried to follow his team out the door, you stopped him. "Dr. Reid," you called, your voice light but loud enough for him to hear from a distance.

He quickly stopped walking and turned around, offering an awkward smile. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Yes?"

"I was hoping to get a moment with you. My names Y/N, and I have some follow-up questions about the lecture. May I?" You tilted your head slightly as you asked for his time, smiling. His cheeks flushed a little in nervousness, and his body stiffened slightly.

He opened his mouth, taking a moment to respond. "Yeah—of course," he said, still a bit caught off guard. His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he were scared to say the wrong thing.

You both moved aside, and you began asking your questions. You started off with some technical questions about profiling, making sure to keep things professional. He answered with his usual ease, but you could tell he was focused on you more than anything else. His eyes occasionally dropped to the ground, and his lips still wore that awkward, yet charming, smile.

"Doesn't your job take a psychological toll on you or your team? I mean, how do you deal with being around all that... darkness?" The question was sincere, and it seemed to catch him off guard. He furrowed his brows, studying you for a while before responding.

"Well, you're not wrong. It does, sometimes. But with a team, it’s a bit easier to handle. We sort of all look after each other. But honestly, books help me more than they do," he joked, chuckling a little. "I also like to play chess sometimes. It helps me relax and think."

You nodded, taking in his words. This was your opportunity. "Chess, huh? I've always wanted to learn how to play. Maybe you could teach me sometime?"

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the hesitation. "I... uh... sure, yeah, I could teach you. I can't say I'm totally pro though."

You smiled, knowing your plan had worked. "Maybe we can exchange numbers? That way, we could set up a time to meet," you paused for a moment, taking out your phone and smirking. "and practice."

Spencer's mouth hung open, unsure whether to accept the offer. He blinked rapidly as he thought, noticing the shift in your energy. "Okay. Yeah, that... that sounds good. You can... put your number in here." He handed you his phone, and you type in your number and quickly save it.

"Thanks! Text me so we can set up a time," you said as you started walking away. "Bye, Dr. Reid."

You exited the room, and a few seconds later, Spencer did as well. He was then met by Emily and Derek, who raised their eyebrows at him. "Mind if you teach me some lessons?" Derek teased, and Emily laughed.

"Shut up!" was all Spencer could say as the team started walking out of the building together.

Later that night, Spencer sat on his bed, contemplating whether to text you. It’s not very professional, he thought. But his fingers didn’t follow that approach. He typed in your name and quickly wrote a message.

"Hey Y/N, what time would you be available for us to meet?"

He quickly sent the message, putting his phone away completely waiting for the vibration that you had responded. He didn't have to wait long though, as he felt one almost exactly a minute later.

"I'm free this Saturday, you?"

tags:

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #i need me a spencer reid #fanfiction #reblog #spencer reid criminal minds

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Bucky x f!reader, White Wolf x f!reader Word Count: 4k Summary: You meet Bucky while you're in Wakanda and you just can't resist his wolfish charms! Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, role-play, oral sex, fingering, biting (mild) Author's note: This is a gift for @samodivaa, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

You had seen him long before you ever spoke with him. He worked the Alkama Fields on the borders of Wakanda, long strands of brown hair strewn across his face, a small sash tied across his muscular chest. The children called him White Wolf, at least that is what you had overheard. Initially, the adults didn’t speak much about him, preferring to hush you with dismissive gestures.

Your multiple doctorates in anthropology and linguistics had made you one of the top choices to visit the advanced society that had been kept so carefully hidden for so long. King T’Challa had allowed you to visit his kingdom where you would spend a year learning about their culture, languages and history. As soon as you had settled into the guest living quarters you’d been offered, you had gone shopping, wanting to fully immerse yourself into the Wakandan lifestyle and fashion.

It hadn’t taken too long before you had been fully accepted into their society, your cheery demeanor and your willingness to be of assistance to anyone you saw granted you access to places where others may have been shunned as an outsider.

The Dora Milaje had immediately fascinated you, the all-female special forces for Wakanda. They had kindly allowed you to observe their training and you had befriended a few members of the elite squad, including Ayo, Yama and Nomble. It was through them that you learned more about Bucky Barnes. It was only after you heard his name that the memories of the Winter Soldier swam to the forefront of your mind.

The only reason you had met him was because Ayo had suggested you learn one of the native languages by attending one of the rural schools. You had entered sheepishly and been introduced to the class, who had responded with smiles and waves. It was only when you were directed to a seat in the back that you noticed the supersoldier hunched over and squeezed into a desk in the corner.

He watched your hips swish slightly as you weaved your way between the little bodies dispersed throughout the room. You were wearing your favorite red dress and soon enough it became Bucky's.

"I don't normally do this, you know," you smiled shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Bucky held down the button which opened the door to your humble living space, letting you enter before following.

"Do what?" he teased. "Never take strange men home?"

You rolled your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, nudging him slightly with your elbow as you spoke. "I never let stray dogs into my home. Maybe I ought to put you back outside."

"Out in the cold?" he pouted.

"It doesn't get cold here," you scoffed.

"Well you never know," Bucky shrugged, then flashed you a mischievous grin. "And even if you did, you'd spend all night listening to me scratch and whine at the door. You wouldn't get much sleep."

In Bucky’s mind, the most beautiful sound burst from your lips as you laughed at his words.

"Maybe my puppy dog eyes will work better on you? But be warned, they are pretty powerful," he tilted his head down so his gaze was looking up at yours, lips pouted a little.

"Oh I'm done for now," you feigned a swoon. "Reign it in there buddy, the White Wolf should be using his powers for the greater good."

"I couldn't think of a better cause than being here with you."

You turned around to slip off your shoes while Bucky gazed around at your studio apartment, furnished with some classic Wakandan sofas and woven tapestries adorned the walls. It was beautiful how well the traditional and technological aspects of the culture meshed together.

"That dress looks pretty special on you, Red."

"Red? You think I'm Little Red Riding Hood?" you asked incredulously.

Bucky shrugged.

"And I suppose that makes you the Big Bad Wolf?"

That made Bucky laugh, a deep unrestrained guffaw. It wasn't a sound you'd heard from him and you wanted to hear it again.

"You think I'm bad?" There was a twinkle in his eye when he voiced the question but there was a touch of hesitation in his voice.

You walked right up to him, until your face was inches away from his, your eyes gazed directly at his lips for a moment or two before you looked up at him and batted your eyelids in a coquettish manner. “I think you can be,” you purred seductively. “You can be big,” you pushed your hand lightly over his crotch, “and bad.” You bit your lip waiting for his response. Every fiber of your being told you that the White Wolf had a wild side, but it was one he kept restrained out of fear of his past. You hope he would trust you to explore it with him.

Slowly but surely, a smile spread across his lips. Bucky tilted his head down to look at you through his eyebrows, a mask of menace painted across his face. “And what brings you to my forest, Red?” he growled.

“I’m sorry for intruding. I was on a little field trip and I think I might be a little lost.” You turned a little to glance around the room in a mock survey of your surroundings. “Do you think you can help me, Mister Wolf?”

Bucky took a step to the side, silent and graceful, creeping around you in a circle, like a predator stalking its prey, sizing you up like his next meal - the curve of your ass, the swell of your breast, the way your throat was highlighted by the neckline of that blood red dress you wore. He was vigilant of your vulnerability, your exposure, his own hunger and desire - the urge to reach out, to touch you, to hold you, to fuck you, was overwhelming.

“You’ll have to pay the price for trespassing in my neck of the woods.”

“But I have nothing to give you, Mister Wolf,” you puffed out your lips into an exaggerated pout.

“How about that pretty red dress you’re wearing? I think that will do very nicely.” Bucky licked his lips, the salacious intent audible in his tone.

“But this is my favorite dress,” you whined.

“Give me the dress, Red. Or I’ll eat you up.”

Bucky took a step forward, towering over you. Even with one arm missing he had a presence, a presence which made your heart flutter uncontrollably. Your breath hitched as you caught a whiff of his scent, his own earthy musk mingled with a hit of sweat from having worked on the fields all day. You could feel your body responding to his proximity as beads of sweat erupted from your skin and the space between your legs throbbed with a desire to be filled. It was as though you craved his touch. He took another step closing the remaining distance between you.

You were so distracted by his closeness that you almost missed him repeating his question. “The dress, Red. Or would you prefer I eat you?”

“What’s to stop you from eating me even after I’ve given you my dress?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

You spun around slowly, allowing Bucky the time to admire your curves. You bit back the moan that tried to escape as his fingers brushed your hips as you turned. He slid them across your waist, trailing them up your back until they landed on the zipper on the back. He pinched the tiny pull between his fingers and tugged it downwards but it barely moved. He tried again with little success. His nose was so pressed so close to your ear that you could hear the quiet growl of frustration in his throat.

“You need help back there, Mister Wolf?”

“No!” he barked, taking the zipper pull between his teeth, while his hand supported the lacy material.

The top of your dress fell from your shoulders in an instant exposing your back and bra. The rest followed with ease, pooling to the floor in a shimmering heap. Bucky smiled, the way your muscles flexed in response to your exposure. He couldn’t help but noticed a dark patch on the front of your panties and how you pushed back into him as he came up behind you.

“You have my dress now, Mister Wolf. Can I go now?” you whimpered.

Bucky wrapped his hand around his waist. “I want more, Red. I want your body.”

It was almost involuntary, how your body responded to his words. You pushed back into him, grinding onto the swell in his pants. Bucky ached, for you to kiss him, for you to let him devour you. He held you closer.

You hummed, “what big arms you have.”

“The better to hold you with.” He covered your breast with his giant palm, kneading your flesh with a longing that had you clenching involuntarily.

He nibbled your ear and you couldn’t hold your moans in any longer. “Ohh Mister Wolf, what big teeth you have!”

“The better to eat you with.”

You squealed loudly as Bucky’s arm enveloped your waist and lifted you clean off the ground. He practically threw you onto the large round beanbag armchair, your landing softened by the multitude of cushions which cradled your fall.

“No more teasing, Red. You’re going to have to pay with more than that sexy dress.”

He straddled your hips, hovering over you, trapping you. Your body’s instinct was to struggle but it was in vain. His weight had you pinned helplessly to the couch, his throbbing cock pushed against your core. Soaked panties, wet lips, grinding hips. His fist was in your hair as he held you up to his chest. He kissed you, hard - long and deep. It felt like he was sucking the air right out of your lungs.

“Please, Mister Wolf.” You had no idea what you were begging for at this point, words strewn with lust. “What are you going to do to me?”

The way you looked under him had Bucky seriously testing his control, his cock now painfully hard and straining against the tight material of his pants. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in you, to stretch you out, to hear you scream his name. That animal instinct that he had buried deep inside was clawing its way to the surface, you’d woken the beast and it was hungry after all its years of slumber. You had freed the wolf and now you would feed it.

Bucky grinned at you devilishly. “I’m going to eat you. As stunning as your lips taste, I have my eyes on something sweeter.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he trailed his tongue down your neck, stopping around your breast to suck and nibble at your nipple. Your whole body tingled under his ministrations.

You moaned loudly, no restraint in conveying your pleasure. "More."

"What was that, Red?"

"I want more, Mister Wolf. I've been a bad girl."

He breathed in your perfume, it permeated his nostrils, but he had caught another scent which had attracted his attention, the scent of your arousal. Suddenly he was on his knees on the floor with a grip on your waist, firm but not painful. And the way his fingers curved under your pelvis and pulled you down with ease had you writhing desperately. You lifted your hips expectantly and he ripped off your skimpy panties, exposing you to his salivating mouth. His teeth grazed his lower lip, tongue coating them with the product of his ravenous appetite.

“Please?” you whispered. A hint of uncertainty in your voice as he hovered over you with the stillness of a dangerous predator waiting to pounce.

He smiled, the lecherous glint in his eyes replaced with one of kindness, almost affectionate. He took your left ankle in his hand, lifting your leg, guiding it up and out until he had room to hook his shoulder under your knee. He glanced up at you and nodded his head at your other leg indicating that he wanted you to do the same. You didn’t need to be told twice and matched his actions, linking your feet together on his back.

Immediately his mouth was on your lips with a yearning of a man starved of passion. He licked the full length of them with his broad tongue before pushing his nose between them, nuzzling your pussy with the growing stubble on his chin. He blew against your clit.

“Fuck Bucky, what was that?” you cried, breaking from your character. Impatience and frustration dripped off your words. “Eat me, damn it!”

“What’s the matter, Red? You sound desperate.”

“Please,” you whispered. It was a thinly veiled plea and for once, Bucky was happy to comply.

One last look into your lustblown eyes and he lowered his head, attention focused on you. You tasted of salt and honey with a hint of lemon. He pushed a finger between your folds, tantalizingly rubbing it along the length of your slit before pushing it deep into you. With each thrust he added another digit, testing your stretch.

“Tongue,” you mumbled.

“Mmmm?” Bucky hummed.

“Use your mouth,” you enunciated.

“Your wish is my command,” he grinned.

“Talk less, lick more.”

Bucky pried you apart and planted his lips firmly over your clit, sucking your sweet nectar into his mouth. His tongue lapped you as he slid his fingers in and out.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” you closed your eyes and moaned, tilting your hips to let his fingers push deeper inside you.

He pressed his face closer, wanting a taste of every part of you. Finally withdrawing his fingers when he couldn’t quite fit both. You barely had time to whine about feeling empty as he grabbed your hips and pulled you right into his face, licking and sucking as though his life depended on drinking every drop of your precious elixir.

You moaned - it was so long and sensual that Bucky felt it inside him. He felt the wolf inside him rising to the surface. He had spent years watching; relentless, trying to find his way inside. You had let him in and now he finally felt alive. He growled, a deep guttural sound which filled you as he devored you. His head undulated as he tried to encompass you with his mouth, upper lip covering your clit as his jaw stretched and tongue pushed inside you. He ravaged you until he had no air left in his lungs.

Bucky’s cock throbbed as he felt the way you clenched against him. He slid his fingers back inside you, his other hand pulling apart your lips and exposing your clit to a fresh assault from his tongue. He could feel your clit pulse, your walls close in around him as he curled his fingers upwards to match the beat you had set with your heart. He was playing you like an instrument and the whimpers and groans that left your lips was music to his ears.

You pushed yourself on him and he ate you like a ravenous creature until-

“Oh Buck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna - Buck, Buck!” Your voice rose in a crescendo. Legs shaking as you tightened and clenched around his thick fingers. “I’m coming, Bucky, I’m coming! Now!”

Bucky watched you as every single one of your muscles contracted and relaxed as waves of pleasure crashed through you, eyes rolled back and mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy.

As you finally came down from your high, you opened your eyes, locking your gaze on his. You lay on your back, limp and naked and tingling all over. Sighing, as the aftermath of your climax finally ebbed away. You lifted your legs off Bucky’s shoulders and patted the space beside you. There was no hesitation as he crawled up beside you.

"That was kinda intense," you smiled at him.

"I wouldn't mind seconds," he smirked, eyes wandering over your face.

You sat up and for a brief frightening moment, Bucky thought you had had enough. But you stretched your arms and arched your back slightly before turning to face him. “So, you think I can take the Wolf for a ride?”

You placed your hand over his still covered cock, rubbing your hand over the tent in his pants making him gasp at your touch. Reflexively, his hips bucked into your hand. “Maybe I should get my pants off first?”

“Sounds like a good plan,” you answered, not taking your hands off him.

Bucky sat up so that his face was inches from yours. “Just need a moment, Red.”

He was up in an instant, lamenting the loss of contact of your hand on his crotch. He unbuttoned and dropped his pants with ease, before turning to face you. The sharp breath you took as you came face to face with his fully freed cock did a lot to stroke his ego. He reveled in the brightness of anticipation in your eyes.

“You really like your Wolf, huh?”

For the first time a blush crossed your cheeks and you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Bucky took a step closer so that there was nowhere for you to avert your gaze.

"May I?" You looked up at him for permission.

He nodded, heart pounding from the thought of your touch.

You wrapped your hand around his shaft, feeling him jump with excitement. "That feel good, Mister Wolf?" A sudden surge of confidence had you feeling aroused again.

"Need more, Red."

You didn't need to be told twice. His already leaking tip looked too tantalizing and you were eager to taste your Wolf. With the same enthusiasm, you took him into your mouth, starting with a few soft licks, before sucking hard. Bucky thought he was going to come right at that moment.

“Red, w-wait!” he stuttered as the waves of pleasure encompassed him.

There was a faint popping sound as you released him from your mouth, looking up at him with an all knowing smile. He sat down beside you, spending the next few moments in an intimate silence with light touches. As his breathing became less ragged, you placed your palms on his chest, pushing him down onto his back. You climbed over and straddled his lap so that your entrance brushed over the base of his cock.

You leaned down and whispered in his ear. "So is my White Wolf going to let me ride him?"

Bucky's pupils dilated so fast that the image of you blurred slightly. It was only when you came back into focus that he was able to growl out the words. "I want you."

He held himself up as you lined your entrance up to his leaking member, slowly sinking down and basking in the stretch you felt. So much more than what his fingers had given you, you wondered if he would tear you in half. After a few careful thrusts, you picked up the pace, riding him with vigor.

"Fuck, Red, you feel so good!" Bucky looked up at you.

You were a sight to behold, flushed with strands of sweat coated hair strewn across your face. But it was your eyes that had him mesmerized, the way you looked back at him with voracity laced with a tenderness he hadn't seen in years.

"Harder!"

You complied with his request, matching your bounces with a thrust of his hips. Bucky admired the way your breasts followed your movements, unable to resist the urge, he reached up to squeeze your left nipple.

After several minutes of energetic thrusting, Bucky caught you slowing down. He slipped his hand down to your waist in an attempt to stay your movements.

"Can we try something different?” you asked, breathing heavily as you leaned forwards to pull air into your burning lungs and ease the pain in your aching thighs.

“Just gimme a few more. ‘M close.”

“Trust me, Mister Wolf? I wanna give something else a try.”

He removed his grip from your waist, watching as you climbed off his lap and crawled over to the arm rest and planted your hands firmly on it. You looked over your shoulder and wiggled your ass at him.

"Mount me, Mister Wolf."

Bucky didn't need to be told twice. He splayed his fingers across one cheek of your beautifully round ass and kneaded the muscle as you pushed back towards him, waiting with anticipation for him to enter you. But Bucky’s inner wolf had been freed and he let its spirit guide him. He leant forwards and sank his teeth into your other cheek, deep enough for you to yelp with pain but not enough to break your skin. He proceeded to cover the area with his lips in an attempt to kiss it better.

"You want to mark me?"

"You're mine, Red. All mine. Got that?" He rubbed his cock against your leaking lips.

“Yo-”

Before you had the chance to finish giving him an answer, he was inside you. One swift thrust. The cry that left your lips was much more pained and Bucky worried for a moment that his strength had been too much for you.

"It's fine, keep going. Fuck me, please."

Bucky was a little more careful on the second try, but each trust made him more confident, aided and abetted by your lusty moans and encouraging words.

“Bucky-”

“You sound so pretty like that,” he pushed into you repeatedly. “Whining and moaning my name.”

“Bucky!”

“What happened to your Wolf?”

"Please… Bucky… please, I need you,, you know I'm aching for you to take me, to pull me apart, whatever pleases you, just… please just don't deny me!”

It felt so fucking good, having Bucky’s cock inside you. Your brain was nothing but mush, focused solely on just how good he felt inside you. You shuddered, your hips pushing backwards as Bucky presses against your clit. His fingers smooth out around your folds, pressing into them slightly, as if holding them open so he can push into you better. You felt your arms going weak at the stimulation, it was getting harder to support yourself as Bucky pushed deeper and deeper inside you.

“Faster!” you cried, but you could barely hear your own words over the sound of skin slapping together, the wet sounds of Bucky’s cock thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck, Red, I’m getting close…”

"…Ohhh fuck, please," you gasped out, instinctively. "Buck… I need you. But… I'm yours, all yours…"

Your legs trembled as Bucky’s words had you teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your juices covering his cock, his thrusts were passionate, wild, frenzied.

“That’s right. Mine! I’m going to fill you up. That’s it, Red. Come on my cock. I want to hear you come.”

Raucous moans caught in your throat, your eyes closed as you took in all of Bucky. Your vision clouded and your body felt limp as he pushed you over the edge once again. It felt as though the world had ceased to exist except for the two of you, together, as one being. Bucky held you close as you squeezed his cock triggering his climax. With a howl, ropes of white hot cum shot from him, filling you until it was dripping out of you and down your leg. He fell into you and you both collapsed onto the sofa, heavy breathing was the only sound to be heard in the room for several minutes.

Finally you caught your breath, recovered some semblance of feeling in your limbs. Bucky’s arm was still wrapped around your waist in a powerful embrace and he hadn't made any moves to extract himself from inside you.

"I should probably be getting back," Bucky mumbled regrettably after a long silence.

But neither of you made a move to free yourselves from the other's arms.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #kinktober #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #white wolf

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corzydoie · 2 months ago

Text

Plain Sight: Pt.1 - Veiled Whispers

Author's Note: After lying about my posting schedule for forever, I finally finished this piece. I kept getting caught up with school and having new ideas to add, but hopefully, this was worth the wait. I've already written the rest of the series and plan to post the next part later this week.

Summary: An unexpected connection between Fernando Alonso and an unconnected, unknown environmental activist blooms into a secretive romance. They bond in the shadows, navigating the pressures of fame and the struggle for privacy in a world where their connection must remain hidden. But apparently, Fernando isn't as good at keeping secrets as he thought...

Word Count: 4.4k

Content Warning(s): Use of the Word Slut, Age Gap (20s/40s), Dodgy Author Knowledge About Mentioned Topics, Briefly Proofread So Please Offer Some Grace!!

Don't Forget to Interact and Follow! Hope You Enjoy!

The hall buzzed with energy and light conversation as advocates, donors, sponsors, and simple celebrities mingled beneath the organization’s eco-friendly banners and flower canopies that gave the room a light floral aroma. Y/n scanned the room, her fingers tapping absentmindedly on the program between her manicured hands which contained a lineup of guest speakers, most unfamiliar to her. She’d agreed to volunteer today only after relentless encouragement from her friend, who had promised it would be “an eye-opening experience.”

Y/n’s passion for the environment had always driven her to unexpected places, but motorsports? She didn’t follow any series or know the names splashed across headlines. Her interest was in the development of green initiatives, the kind that could change communities and landscapes. This event, however, felt out of her element. It was difficult for her not to feel skittish and fidget with the recycled program in her hands as she prayed some motorsport mogul wouldn’t approach her.

A sudden ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to see what had captured everyone’s attention and found herself locking eyes with a man whose presence demanded notice. He was impeccably dressed with a charisma that hinted at fame she couldn’t quite place. He raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement crossing his features as he nodded a polite greeting.

Unfazed, Y/n offered a curt smile before turning back to her duties. Whoever he was, he knew how to work a room. But for her, today was about one thing only: championing environmental causes, not mingling with affluent guests.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice interrupted Y/n’s concentration as she arranged promotional materials on the table. She looked up and found herself face-to-face with the man from earlier. Up close, his presence was even more striking, eyes sharp with a glimmer of curiosity.

“Are you one of the event coordinators?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as if genuinely interested.

“No, just a volunteer,” she replied, adjusting her skirt to calm her nerves. “But I care a lot about the cause, so I decided to help out.”

He smiled, a small dimple appearing that softened his otherwise commanding demeanor. “Good cause indeed. The intersection of environmentalism and motorsports is... not what most people would expect.”

“I know, right?” Y/n’s eyes lit up, her earlier reservations momentarily forgotten. “I think it’s fascinating how innovation in motorsports can actually influence sustainable technology beyond racing. It’s just that... well, people don’t seem to take it seriously. They assume it’s all about speed and luxury.”

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. Many don’t see past the noise and glamour. But there’s potential for change.”

Her gaze sharpened with enthusiasm. “Exactly. If these advancements could trickle down into everyday life, think of how much more efficient our energy use could be! Racing could be a testbed for new eco-friendly practices. It’s why I’m here—I want to support things that actually make a difference.”

Fernando’s expression shifted, subtly impressed. He’d expected polite chatter, not a deep dive into the intersection of green tech and motorsport philosophy. “You must know quite a bit about the field,” he said, keeping his tone conversational.

“Oh, not really,” Y/n admitted with a laugh. “I’m more of an environmentalist than anything. The motorsport side of this is a bit lost on me, honestly.” She raised an eyebrow. “What about you? Are you here as a guest speaker or just someone who supports the cause?”

For a second, Fernando hesitated, realizing you had no idea who he was. The familiar instinct to hold back, to maintain the thin veil of anonymity, kicked in. “More of a supporter. I’m mostly here to learn more about the cause,” he said, offering a noncommittal shrug. “I think there’s value in understanding how things connect, don’t you?”

She nodded, her expression brightening again, thankful she didn’t have to converse about motorsports, a topic she was clueless about, with a petrolhead that would quiz her on the significance of hybrid racing cars on track performance. “Absolutely. Connections are everything.”

Before he could respond, someone called his name from across the room—“Fernando!”—in a way that made it clear they knew him well. Y/n glanced at the source of the call, then back at him, curiosity sparking in her eyes.

But Fernando only offered her a subtle, almost secretive smile. “It was nice meeting you. I hope you find what you’re looking for here.”

And before she could ask more, he turned and blended seamlessly into the crowd, leaving her with a thousand questions, a sudden flutter in her chest, and a slowly creeping blush across her cheeks.

She didn’t see him for the rest of the night. Still, she thought of him during event cleanup, on her drive home, in the shower, and as she lay in bed unable to sleep, ultimately deciding to focus on what the next day might bring, as everything she came up with was boring enough to lull her into a dreamscape.

Y/n wanted to meet up with her friend the next day but decided against it. She knew the taunting that would come with retelling her meeting someone who ended up flooding her mind would be endless. Thankfully, Y/n already planned a vacation for a much-needed refresh away from the hustle and bustle of metropolitan living.

Fernando found himself on a white-sanded beach staring toward the endlessly blue horizon, secluded from the outside world that always seemed to have a camera pointed his way. After rough races these past weekends, he was thankful for some time off. He enjoyed the calming sounds of the waves and the lack of human presence until a faint mumbling could be heard not far from where he sat.

At first, he thought he might just be hearing things since he remembered being the only person on the beach when he arrived, but the sound drew closer and closer with each growing moment. He opened his eyes and saw what seemed to be a familiar figure, which looked in his direction. Fernando figured this person knew who he was as they sent him a shallow wave before walking in his direction.

He could recognize this person was a woman from where they originally stood, but as they drew closer, a faint memory from a charity event a couple of weeks ago flashed in his mind.

“Coincidence seeing you here,” the lady said as she shifted her sunglasses from her eyes to the top of her head. “Fernando, right? Mind if I sit here?” He instantly recognized her as the volunteer he shared a brief conversation with that day and gestured to the sand beside him, letting her know she was more than welcome.

“You were at the environmental motorsports event a couple of weeks ago, no?” Fernando asked as he watched her set down a floral beach towel. “Yep, that’s me.” The two sat in silence before the unnamed lady realized she had yet to introduce herself to Fernando properly.

“I’m Y/n by the way, apologies for not sharing that earlier,” she said as she reached a hand out for a handshake, which Fernando took in both of his, causing her heart to flutter slightly. “Pleasure to meet you again Y/n. So tell me, what brings you to this beach?” Although he initially meant for small talk to pass a couple of minutes, the two ended up talking on the beach for hours, eventually watching the sunset together.

Their conversations explored almost every topic under the sun, from Fernando’s ranking of the world’s best beaches and Y/n’s of nations with the largest carbon footprint to Fernando confiding in Y/n about the issues he faces in his life and career. Y/n could sense Fernando’s genuity from the way his posture relaxed and his words were purposeful to avoid any confusion about what he was feeling.

If he was being honest with himself, Fernando was a bit taken aback by the maturity she expressed in their conversations, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit the attraction he felt that initially drew him to her all those weeks ago.

“I didn’t expect to find someone who could understand me at this stage in life, especially someone so young.” Fernando stared stoically into the sunset, trying to avoid eye contact with the beautiful young woman beside him, afraid his heart might flutter. He’d feel like a dirty old man being attracted to someone who appeared to be half his age, or even younger, who was sitting next to him in a bikini on what he considered the most beautiful beach on Earth.

“I never thought I’d connect with someone much older than me either, but life is crazy isn’t it,” Y/n said with a light giggle that caused Fernando to turn his head and smile at her. “Y’know, I’ve enjoyed all the conversations we’ve had so far, maybe we can connect again sometime?” she asked with a smile that signaled she was genuine about wanting to see Fernando again.

“Yeah, I’d like that!” Y/n immediately turned to grab her phone out of her bag to exchange contact information with Fernando while sharing parting pleasantries. Perhaps a small part of her felt like a whore, asking for an older man’s phone number, wanting to see him again, the uncontrollable butterflies she felt when their hands slightly brushed each other before parting ways. She knew this interaction and any future ones with Fernando would be kept close to her heart and locked in her mind, she was afraid of what her friends and family would think of her talking to someone like him. But a bigger part of her didn’t care, because she saw how he looked at her, and knew he felt the same.

After their chance meeting on the beach, Fernando and Y/n began exchanging messages sporadically. At first, their conversations were light and centered around the environment–Y/n sharing articles about conservation efforts and Fernando asking thoughtful questions that hinted at his growing interest in the topic.

What started as occasional texts quickly became more frequent. They discussed everything from their favorite books and movies to deep, wandering philosophical debates. Fernando found himself drawn to her passion and perspective, while Y/n appreciated his thoughtful nature and how he always seemed genuinely interested in their conversations.

When Fernando traveled for races, their messages became a welcome reprieve from his high-pressure world, while Y/n found their exchanges refreshing amid her demanding work. Over time, phone calls replaced texts, and their conversations stretched late into the night.

It wasn’t long before their connection grew undeniable. Fernando invited Y/n to meet him again, on a quiet beach near his home in Spain. He framed it casually–another chance to explore their shared interest in the environment–but his nervous excitement made it clear this meeting felt different. Y/n was equally curious and undeniably drawn to the man who had quickly become a comforting constant.

The sun dipped low over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink as the waves lapped gently at the shore. Fernando and Y/n strolled along the secluded stretch of beach, their footprints the only evidence of life on the soft sand.

Y/n slipped her sandals off, letting the cool grains sink between her toes. She glanced at Fernando, who seemed lost in thought, his hands shoved into the pockets of his linen trousers.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she said softly.

He gave her a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder.

He chuckled but didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the waves. “Y/n,” he began after a pause, his voice low and steady, “have you ever thought about how different our lives are?”

She stopped, tilting her head to study him. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, pulling a hand from his pocket to gesture vaguely. “You’re young, passionate, with so much ahead of you. And I…” He trailed off, looking down at the sand. “I’ve lived a lot of my life already. I don’t want to take anything away from you.”

Y/n frowned, stepping closer to him. “Fernando, where is this coming from?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not just the age gap. It’s everything. The world sees me differently than you do. I’ve built a life that people…notice. That comes with expectations and assumptions. And I worry what people will think when they see us together. What they’ll think about you.”

Her brows knit together. “Fernando, are you saying people will think less of me because of you? Or that I’ll think less of you?”

“No,” he said quickly, meeting her eyes. “Not you. Never you. But people might say things–things that aren’t true. They’ll question your motives, and assume you’re with me for the wrong reasons. And they’ll question me, too.”

Y/n stared at him for a long moment, the sound of the waves filling the silence between them. “I don’t care what people think, Fernando. I know why I’m here. I’m here because of who you are, not what you have.”

He studied her, his expression softening. “You’re sure? Even if it gets…complicated?”

She smiled, reaching to take his hand, “Life’s already complicated. You just have to decide who’s worth the complications.”

Fernando exhaled, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is,” she said, squeezing his hand. “We can worry about the rest when it happens. But for now, I’m choosing you. That’s all that matters.”

He stepped closer, cupping her cheek gently. “You’re remarkable.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” she teased, her smile widening.

As the waves rolled in, cool water brushing their ankles, Fernando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

Over the next few months, their connection grew through long calls and fleeting visits, each moment together strengthening the bond they had quietly formed. Though their lives often pulled them in opposite directions, Fernando and Y/n made time for each other, carefully navigating the delicate beginnings of their relationship.

On a crisp morning in the city, a few months into their romance, they found themselves at a quaint cafe, eager to share news that had been building in both their lives. They sat in a far corner, their usual spot regardless of the establishment, as they indulged in their choice of coffee and pastries. They’d been talking for hours, their laughter littering the atmosphere as they shared stories of their day-to-day lives. But as the conversation shifted toward something more serious, Y/n felt the need to tell him about her work.

“I’ve been working on some new projects,” she began. “The organization has been focusing on bridging the gap between sustainability and industries that often overlook it,” she explained as she took the finishing sip of her cappuccino.

Fernando looked at her with genuine interest painting his features, a slight smile drawn across his lips. “I think what you’re doing is amazing. It’s not easy, I bet.”

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. “It’s been a real struggle, but it’s worth it, you know? I’ve been mainly working on reducing the carbon footprint of the fashion and technology industries, but I’ve been diving deeper into how motorsports can play a role too.” She paused, then let out a slight chuckle, “I know it’s ironic, considering my complete lack of knowledge about cars and racing.”

Fernando reciprocated the chuckle, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. “I think you’d be surprised, you might have a lot more in common with motorsports than you think.”

Y/n slightly cocked her head in confusion, but before she could respond, she became aware of the slight murmurs coming from the rest of the patrons. Her eyes flickered around the cafe, noticing the subtle whispers and glances thrown their way. A few turned their heads, avoiding eye contact with her, while others held it as if trying to memorize Y/n’s face.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking down at her empty cup, unsure how to react. Fernando noticed almost immediately, his brows furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Y/n glanced around again before focusing on the man across from her. “Do you have any idea why people keep looking at us? Are we doing something weird?” she asked, slightly ducking her head, she now felt oddly insecure and self-aware.

Fernando’s expression softened as he took her hand, giving her a knowing look. “It’s not you,” he said simply, his voice quieter now. “It’s me.” Y/n tilted her head again in confusion, clearly not understanding what he meant.

“I’m a bit more…well-known than I think you realize,” Fernando continued, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. “People recognize me, whether I want them to or not. And when I’m out with someone…” he trailed off, a quiet understanding passing between them.

Y/n’s eyes widened in realization. “You’re…famous?”

Fernando nodded. “Something like that.” He laughed softly, though it was tinged with a hint of sadness. “I don’t usually talk about it much, especially with people who don’t know the motorsport world. It’s a bit much to take in sometimes, but it’s part of the package.”

Y/n sat in silence for a moment, processing the information. Her initial unease began to fade as she looked at him, but a new wave of curiosity washed over her. She never considered fame in the equation of their interactions, but now it felt like a weight had settled in the air between them.

“So, what’s it like?” she asked, almost shyly.

Fernando’s lips quirked into a small smile. “It’s a lot of eyes on you. A lot of expectations. A lot of whispers.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the table, a slight sadness creeping into his features. “It’s hard to keep things private when people know you.”

Y/n nodded thoughtfully, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “I understand. You know, sometimes I struggle with the environmental work I do ‘cause it feels like everyone only has their eyes on the big guys. It’s hard to make your work known in such an overesaturated field.”

Fernando leaned forward, his tone shifting to something a little more serious. “I can help you with that, you know. With the work you’re doing, I mean. There’s an event coming up. It’s a big one, focusing on the steps motorsports are taking toward sustainability, and you’d be a great fit there. You could meet people in the industry, build some connections.” His eyes softened with sincerity. “It’s an opportunity for you to get your foot in the door.”

Y/n’s eyes brightened. “Really? That sounds amazing.”

He smiled. “Yeah. I’ll have you as my guest. I think it could be a good place for you.”

She smiled back, though her thoughts still lingered on the attention they were receiving. “Thank you, Fernando. I’d love to go.”

As their conversation continued, the stares from the other patrons in the cafe didn’t stop. Y/n couldn’t help but feel like the walls were closing in as more and more people gathered their courage to steal a glance at the couple. When they finally finished their coffees and stood up to leave, Fernando’s hand brushed against hers, and Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

A few days later, Fernando and Carlos found themselves on a sun-drenched golf course, the mid-afternoon light casting short shadows over the pristine grass. They had been friends for years, but there was something about how Fernando’s behavior had shifted recently that made Carlos more attentive than usual.

Fernando had been quieter and more withdrawn, and today was no exception. As they padded down the fairway, Carlos couldn’t ignore the subtle signs: the distracted glances, how his usually carefree demeanor seemed tethered to something more serious.

“You’re not yourself today,” Carlos remarked, glancing at Fernando, who was lining up his shot. “What’s going on?”

Fernando took a deep breath, setting the club down for a moment. “It’s…it’s nothing, really.” He turned to face Carlos, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s just… you know, there’s someone I’ve been seeing.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, already sensing there was more to this than Fernando was letting on. “Someone special?”

Fernando hesitated. “Yeah, I guess so.” He glanced off in the distance, his eyes far away for a moment. “But it’s complicated.”

Carlos, ever the curious one, was quick to press. “Complicated how?”

Fernando’s gaze flickered to the ground, as though he was weighing the decision to share more. “It’s… the age gap. Between us. I’ve only told you because, well, I trust you. We’re keeping things low-key for now. People have a lot of opinions, especially about stuff like that.”

Carlos’ expression softened. He’d been Fernando’s friend through thick and thin, and while the news surprised him, he understood the need for secrecy. “You’re not the only one, mate,” he said, lightly patting him on the back. “Everyone’s got an opinion about relationships, especially in our world.”

Fernando nodded, grateful for Carlos’ understanding. “Yeah. So for now, it’s just between us.”

Later that evening, the glow of the event’s lights welcomed Fernando and Y/n as they drove up to the venue. Before they could leave Fernando’s Valkyrie, Y/n asked a question that was itching at the back of her mind.

“So what is it exactly that you do for a living?” Y/n refrained from searching for him online, afraid she would uncover something she would rather not know.

Fernando hesitated a bit, despite knowing it was better to come clean now. “Well, I’m a Formula 1 driver. This is an F1 event actually, all my colleagues will be inside.” When he turned to see Y/n’s wide-eyed expression, Fernando assured her she didn’t need to impress since nobody knew of their connection.

They stepped into the venue, which hummed with the energy of motorsport industry professionals, media personalities, and environmental activists alike. The venue was a sprawling, modern building, and the perfect backdrop for Y/n’s growing career in environmentalism. Fernando could see the spark in her eyes as she took in the scene, all hesitation from before evaporating.

But as they entered, Y/n immediately felt the need to distance herself, her instinct to blend in taking over. While Fernando introduced her to a few people, she spent most of the evening networking, making connections that would benefit her future work. She didn’t want to draw attention as someone’s girlfriend, especially Fernando’s. She kept her interactions professional, answering questions about her work the entire night, and steering the conversation away from anything too personal.

Fernando, however, wasn’t as good at keeping his emotions under wraps. His subtle mood changes didn’t go unnoticed by the drivers and other guests at the event. They could see how he smiled a little softer, how his eyes lingered when he looked at her. It wasn’t a mood they were used to seeing from Fernando–he usually kept everything too guarded to let his true feelings show. But tonight, there was a difference.

“Dude,” his teammate, Lance Stroll, asked him quietly, as they stood near the bar, “Is everything okay with you? You’ve been…different.”

Fernando blinked, his attention snapping back to the present. He offered a tight smile, trying to mask his swirling emotions. “Yeah, just…tired,” he replied, not wanting to reveal anything more. “Long day.”

But Carlos, who had been watching from a distance, could see through the façade. He pulled Fernando aside for a more private conversation.

“What’s going on, Fernando? You seem distant tonight,” Carlos asked gently, his voice carrying a tone of concern.

Fernando sighed, knowing it was time to acknowledge what kept causing his attention to drift. “The person I’m seeing, she’s here tonight. But I don’t want to draw too much attention to her.”

Carlos nodded in understanding. “You’re keeping it under wraps because of the age thing, right?”

Fernando gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “Yeah. That’s part of it. But it’s more than just that. We’re keeping things low-key because we don’t want the media or anyone making assumptions before we’re ready to deal with all that. It’s just…a lot, and she’s not used to it yet.”

Carlos glanced over to where Y/n was, still conversing with a group of guests, the contrast of her professionalism and the personal connection between her and Fernando hanging like a secret.

“I get it,” Carlos said softly. “But you can’t hide forever, Fernando. People are going to start asking questions, especially if your behavior keeps giving it away.”

Fernando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. But this isn't just about me. It's her life, her work, her reputation. I want to protect her from the chaos in all of this."

Carlos' expression softened. "I understand. But if she's the one, and it sounds like she might be, you'll have to face it together at some point. People will talk, but if you're both sure about each other, it won't matter."

Fernando looked over at Y/n again, watching her with admiration and longing as her animated gestures lit up the conversation she was having across the room. She seemed so comfortable, so confident, even among strangers. That strength was one of the many things that drew him to her. He had always been the one to play things close to the chest, but this relationship–this person–felt different.

Carlos gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "For what it's worth, you look happier than I've seen you in years. Don't let anything get in the way of that."

“I know,” Fernando replied quietly. “But for now I want to protect her. And myself,”

As the evening continued, Fernando remained reserved, offering little more than polite responses to his fellow drivers. His connection with Y/n was too new and fragile, and he wasn’t ready for the world to know yet. Not until they were able to face it together. Their path forward wouldn't be easy, but Fernando knew as he watched Y/n laugh and light up the room, that she was worth every complication.

Written By: CorzyDoie <3

Don't Forget to Interact and Follow! Hope You Enjoyed!

#formula 1 #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso #formula one fancfiction #fernando alonso fanfic #written fic #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #lance stroll #aston martin f1 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr

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helloliriels · 2 months ago

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GIFT WRAPPED 2024

SENDING OUT A GREAT BIG THANK YOU to everyone who made this year such a lovely experience!!! Including those that came to the Writers Retreat; to @friday411 @ghostofnuggetspast and @calaisreno's for the May Prompts challenge and sucking me into Limerick writing; Plus the IRL chatting of the Johnlock Community (at long last!) and special encouragement of @totallysilvergirl and @thegildedbee! Tysm you two!!! I owe you both so so much!!!

And since fandom gifts are meant to be shared, please go and share some love for these amazing authors and artists!! 💋xoxo - Liri

🎁 SH-221 by ??? (TBA!!!) a Holmestice Winter 2024 gift

The year is 2035 and John Watson is desperately looking for a job, trying to survive in a dystopian world run by technology. But Mike Stamford might just have the offer he needed: partaking in an experiment with a unique new android.

💝 H.O.U.N.D. by @k2ntwo

Behind the facade of Baskerville, Sherlock suspects there's a darker trial being run. One that involves a very human subject! It will take all of his courage to unleash the H.O.U.N.D.

🎁 Ode to Your Hands Upon My Waking at 3AM to Hear the Violin by @ghostofnuggetspast a poem response to 36 Views of London!

John turns to his hidden journal to let off a bit of steam in a (maybe?) healthy way. Well, it's healthy as long as Sherlock doesn't find it. O_o

💝 The Part of You That Stays by @holmesianlove @was-fuck-off-watson a FTH 2024 fic, brilliantly written! xoxo

Sherlock comes home a broken man and after serving as John’s best man he seemingly has a mental breakdown. Checking himself into a mental rehabilitation center. The medicine he needs is his Doctor ... but will John be able to put all of Sherlock’s broken pieces back together in time?

🎁 Sherlock and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week by @chriscalledmesweetie

John is away. Sherlock is NOT pleased.

💝 And Back Again by @anyawen a FTH 2024 gift poem remix

A book familiar and meaningful to both men offers guidance and hope.

🎁 What If I'm Not? (fanart) by @safedistancefrombeingsmart a FTH 2024 gift GIF image.

A stunning visual for the fic 'What If I'm Not'

💝 Body of Years by @gaylilsherlock (LipstickDaddy)

Sherlock has been dead for two years, fighting to stay alive each day to see John again. So, when he comes back to London and sees John about to close the door on their life together, he reaches a breaking point.

2023

💝 Of Scars and Revelations by @catlock-holmes for Holmestice Winter 2023

Sherlock has returned from his presumed death, but he isn’t the same he used to be. John isn’t the same either. Can they rekindle their friendship, or maybe even become something more?

🎁 Human Urges by @topsyturvy-turtely

John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. Despised himself for it … That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed!

💝 The Case of the Serial Secret Admirer by @hasenkind687

It is seven days until Valentine’s day. Humbuk - if you ask Sherlock. But then, anonymous gifts appears!

🎁 “John what the bloody hell are you doing?” by Atrocious_Magpie

Sherlock catches John baking cookies while listening to abba, what do you think happens next?

💝 This perfect JOHNLOCK IMAGE photo manip for ‘It Belongs in a Museum’, a gift made by @a-victorian-girl

2022

🎁 Live from the Morgue by @disfictional Holmestice Winter 2022.

A very special podcast episode 'Live from the Morgue’ with Molly Hooper, featuring guest star Sherlock Holmes, discussing his years away playing dead - while John listens … Brilliant!

💝 Mrs. Hudson’s Crack Brew by @chriscalledmesweetie for 2022 Year of the Crack Fic!

Mrs. Hudson is beginning to regret the part she played in bringing Sherlock and John together. Not to put too fine a point on it, those boys are LOUD. XD

🎁 Knitting Needles Out by @fluffbyday-smutbynight

Knitting. How hard could it be? Pretty hard, as it turned out. Especially cable knitting. Bahaha!

💝 This lovely GIF collab made by @liquor-liquor-lips for 'pack up the moon, and dismantle the sun’ quote by W.H. Auden and the reichenbach feels. 💋

2021

🎁 Shared Proximity by @fluffbyday-smutbynight for Holmestice Open Promptfest Winter 2021

“As ever, you see but you do not observe. Our respective lives are so enmeshed together, that such labels - like flatmates or colleagues or, yes, even friends - evidently fall short. Partners might do, and it’s not a coincidence that it’s a stand-in for couple.” A definition might prove necessary, but still not enough in itself. What’s the next step?

💝 (Full) Contact With Nature by @fluffbyday-smutbynight

John’s abs and thighs harden as he bucks up to get into a sitting position, but Sherlock puts all his weight on him pushing him back on the ground, and simultaneously catches John’s arms and pins them down by the wrists at the sides of his head.

🎁 A Story of Scent by maelle_lardeux & 💝Un affaire de sentur by malle_lardeux (french translation) 🥰 for @ohlooktheresabee & me

It’s amazing how smells can affect people’s emotions, in a good or bad way.C’est incroyable comment les odeurs peuvent affecter les émotions des personnes, d’une bonne ou d’une mauvaise façon.

🎁 The Mystery of the Red Pants by @simplyclockwork for Holmestice Summer 2021

A few spectacular laundry mishaps lead to revelations between Sherlock and John - and maybe a bit more …

💝 Practice Date by Fantasy_Fan_26

Sherlock wants to go on a date with John to figure out his feelings, but doesn’t want to be rejected, this is the plan he comes up with.

Plus these translated fics 💖:

🎄Шерлок – это женское имя [Sherlock is a Girl’s Name] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami 🎄Бутылочка [Spin the Bottle] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami 🎄Таксофон [Payphone] translated by Flamyenko_No_Kami 🎄Эксперименты по проводимости [Experiments in Conductivity] translated by Little_Unicorn 🎄【福华福】[授翻]Kiss Me Now Before You Go／离开前请吻我 translated by 十三横夏 [Whale_Juan] 🎄Dawno utracone [Long Lost] translated by Tulippa 🎄Помни меня [Remember Me] translated by Little_Unicorn

Is there anything better than a fandom gift??

#bbc sherlock #johnlock #fandom gifts #are meant to be shared #share the joy #happy holidays #much love

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totowlff · 1 year ago

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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.

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